


Cape horn it is

by salvatorestjohn



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Rewrite, M/M, Mentioned Stefan Salvatore, No Humanity (Vampire Diaries), Protective Damon Salvatore, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:48:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23789590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salvatorestjohn/pseuds/salvatorestjohn
Summary: "We'll leave," Damon quickly says, speaking to Stefan alone now, his desperation growing. He can’t bring himself to care if it’s that obvious; Enzo may not be feeling any pain right now but Damon’s own chest is twinging just at the sight.It works, at least momentarily. Enzo's amusement only grows as Stefan seems to relax his hand. It’s still lodged inside of Enzo’s chest, however, and Damon can’t relax because all it would take is one accidental slip.He looks at Stefan, his eyes wide and silently pleading with him. The anger woven into his features lessen, and there’s a shift in his expression. Hesitation, but not in the doubtful, “should I kill him?” kind of way. But more in the “should I really listen to you?” way.Damon's stomach drops and he shakes his head."Don't kill him," he says slowly. He catches the movement of Enzo flicking his lighter closed, extinguishing the flame. "You let him go and we'll leave Mystic Falls tonight. I can fix this, Stefan. Please. Let him go."
Relationships: Damon Salvatore/Lorenzo "Enzo" St. John
Comments: 25
Kudos: 126





	1. Chapter 1

The voicemail was a long shot. The chances of Enzo listening to it are slim, and the chances of it actually changing his mind? Basically, it’s not looking good and Damon’s worried.

Still, a tiny, practically miniscule spark of hope lingers as he leaves Elena's dorm room while she's still unconscious, speeding out of the building and back onto campus. The fact that there's no sign of either Enzo or Stefan really doesn't bode well. He knows them both well enough to know that there's a good chance either one of them will kill the other without a second's hesitation, especially with the state they’re both currently in.

He listens for any sign of them. It takes a good few seconds to get past the typical college sounds and the engine of a car or two starting up somewhere around him despite it being late at night. But then he catches it. That familiar lilting accent, voice quiet and taunting.  _ Bingo _ .

Damon speeds off in the direction of the campus car park. He comes to a stop just a little away from them. Stefan's on the ground, back pressed up against a car and looking significantly weaker than usual but furious. He's quick to take in the hole in the side of the car roughly in the shape and size of a fist. Gasoline seeps out into the ground in a puddle. The most alarming part is the flame barely two feet away from it, held in a lighter in Enzo’s hand. 

His heartbeat quickens as he watches him flick the lighter to life, neither of them noticing him. The words are on the tip of his tongue when he goes to move, ready to call out to him, stop him before he can go through with what he's clearly threatening. 

Anger flashes across Stefan's face, and in a second too fast for even Damon’s eyes to track, he's thrusting his hand forward. Damon stops dead as Stefan holds his hand in Enzo's chest, his fingers no doubt curled around Enzo's heart. His own leaps into his throat, panic quickly curling inside him and he's moving forward before he can think.

"Stop," he says, directing it at the both of them as Stefan's eyes dart to him, widening at his sudden appearance. Enzo doesn't turn his head to look at him. Good. It's safe to say that Damon's glad he doesn't try and move right now. 

"Take it you found Elena, then," Enzo says, his voice flat. Uncaring, though also somewhat disappointed. "Oh well. Worth a shot."

Damon takes slow steps towards them until he's beside them, in both their lines of sight, his hands held in front of him as if he's trying to tame a wild animal. It feels like a good move considering the situation. 

"We can go right now," he says to Enzo, his words calm if not tinged with urgency. "You heard my voice mail, right? We'll get first class tickets tonight and be in Cape wherever it is—"

"Horn — it's Cape Horn, honestly, how is that so hard to remember?" Enzo asks, genuine annoyance in his voice despite everything. "It's two words."

Damon nods, cracking a slight smile. “Yeah, okay. We'll leave this place behind. Just you and me. What do you say?"

"Why are you appealing to me?" The exasperation is clear in Enzo’s voice as he glances up at him and makes a motion towards Stefan with the lighter. "I'm not the one with my hand in his chest."

He shifts his eyes back to Stefan pointedly, raising his eyebrows.

"I can feel you squeezing harder, it's really doing nothing. You know, I think you forget that you're not the first person to be poking around at my internal organs."

Stefan snarls at him, and his hand obviously tightens around Enzo's heart even more, muscles shifting beneath the skin in his wrist. Enzo doesn't even wince. He laughs instead, unfazed.

"We'll leave," Damon quickly says, speaking to Stefan alone now, his desperation growing. He can’t bring himself to care if it’s that obvious; Enzo may not be feeling any pain right now but Damon’s own chest is twinging just at the sight.

It works, at least momentarily. Enzo's amusement only grows as Stefan seems to relax his hand. It’s still lodged inside of Enzo’s chest, however, and  _ Damon _ can’t relax because all it would take is one accidental slip.

He looks at Stefan, his eyes wide and silently pleading with him. The anger woven into his features lessen, and there’s a shift in his expression. Hesitation, but not in the doubtful,  _ “should I kill him?” _ kind of way. But more in the _ “should I really listen to you?” _ way. 

Damon's stomach drops and he shakes his head.

"Don't kill him," he says slowly. He catches the movement of Enzo flicking his lighter closed, extinguishing the flame. "You let him go and we'll leave Mystic Falls tonight. I can fix this, Stefan. Please. Let him go."

"Preferably with my heart still in my chest," Enzo adds, gazing at the lighter as he flicks it to life once more. "Or not. Feel free to kill me, it's really up to you, free will and all that.”

Damon stops and his eyes turn on him in confusion and alarm, because that’s really not the kind of sentence he needs thrown about right now. Enzo looks up, meeting his eyes, and a smirk crawls across his face.

"What sweet revenge it would be to kill me in front of your brother," he says, the words for Stefan as he holds Damon's stare. 

He quickly looks back at Stefan, that taunting glint back in his eyes. 

"To listen to him beg you to spare me, then rip my heart right out with that tiny bit of hope he had left. I could still be redeemed, you know. I'm sure I'm still in here, somewhere, but if you kill me now, then Damon will live forever knowing that might have been able to save me and you didn't give him the chance."

"You think you're that special?" Stefan asks, clearly unable to help himself as he shakes his head, leaning up closer to get in his face. "Because you're not. Damon's gotten over people before, all of them far more important than you. You would be forgotten about in, what? Two years? Two months, even?”

Damon knows he should say something, but he’s still too worried about that hand gripping Enzo’s heart and how easy one sudden move would make it to slip. The threat makes his stomach drop, though, and the last part isn’t too much better, either, and  _ he really should say something _ .

Enzo laughs, the delighted amusement lighting up his eyes like the flame of his lighter still clutched in his hand. He turns his head now, to look up at Damon, wide-eyed and gleeful. 

"He doesn't know, does he?" he breathes. 

Stefan pauses, confusion flickering across his face. His eyes dart between the two of them.

"What is he talking about?" he asks Damon. Then to Enzo, “What don’t I know?”

Damon doesn't answer, and neither does Enzo. He keeps his eyes focused on him, his jaw tightening at the way Enzo’s face only lights up even more at the confirmation. Now is the time to speak, Damon thinks, but he’s biting the inside of his cheek too hard to do so.

"It makes sense," Enzo continues, his words coated in sarcasm to disguise the boiling irritation that Damon knows is deep down in there, buried beneath the switch. 

"Nothing to tell your brother, right? We just spent two years practically in a relationship, no big deal. And then just a few nights spent together, a whole promise that you still love me and never plan to abandon me again. But that was all a lie, right? I mean, according to your little brother here. I mean nothing to you.”

The words are a stab right in Damon's chest. Enzo can so obviously tell that the blow lands perfectly because his smirk grows. He's definitely missing that familiar glint in his eyes compared to this dull, cold look he's getting right now. 

"Wait," Stefan looks up at Damon, his eyebrows stitching together, "you and he were...?"

"Technically, we never stopped," Enzo chimes back in. "Though, I suppose the whole finding out that you killed Maggie thing was a bit of a deal-breaker.” He looks up at Damon as well now with just as much confusion. “Does this mean we’re still together? Should I officially break up with you?”

"You know, you're really not helping right now, and if you hadn't noticed, I'm sort of trying to save your life," Damon tells him, motioning vaguely to Stefan’s hand still in his chest.

Enzo merely raises his eyebrows, clearly finding great joy in this. But he at least stays quiet as his eyes flick over him like he’s curious in a way that Damon’s familiar with, but not quite because of that damned switch.

"You never thought to tell me that your old cellmate who is trying to kill us is also your boyfriend?" asks Stefan, incredulous and aggravated. "Did that not strike you as an important piece of information?"

"You know what? Not really," Damon says, throwing his hands out at his sides. At this point, he’s sure nothing he could do could make this worse. "Because, honestly? I wasn't exactly expecting you to go and stick your hand in his chest and try to  _ kill him _ ! So, no, Stefan, I didn't think it was all that important to share any details of my relationship with you. Would it have made a difference?"

Stefan doesn't answer. His mouth goes into a line and he looks away.

"That's what I thought." 

"All right, are you going to kill me or not?" Enzo finally asks Stefan, the amusement evidently wearing off. "No offence, but your hand's starting to feel rather intrusive. So, if you could hurry up and decide if you want to keep me alive or kill me, I would appreciate that."

Damon closes his eyes, pressing his lips together tightly. He shouldn't be surprised; even with humanity, Enzo was always provoking Dr. Whitmore at every opportunity. The only time he would really quiet was when Whitmore threatened Damon instead.

Stefan glares up at Enzo. A look of pure hatred. More than he ever had for Klaus, or even Damon himself, surprisingly to him. "He deserves better than you."

"Funny, I was going to say the same to you," Enzo counters. “Not exactly brother of the year, are you?”

"Can we please stop reenacting every chick flick ever?" Damon says, his stomach already tying itself in knots at how much loathing there is lingering in the air between the two of them. This is getting dangerously close to a complete bloodbath.

He turns his attention to Stefan, stepping closer to Enzo to pull his glare away from him.

"I promise you that we will leave," Damon says, their eyes locking. "You won't have to deal with any of this. Just let him go, Stefan." 

The uncertainty lingers in his eyes, and Damon can't do anything else but shake his head and hope that his little brother who loved him when they were humans is still in there. 

"Please."

A beat passes. The anger and loathing dissolves, softening. He glances at Enzo, eyeing him as Enzo simply tilts his head and raises his eyebrows in response to the examination.

"If I let you go, you won't kill me?" Stefan asks, not a hint of trust in his voice. 

Enzo starts to chuckle, low and amused all over again. Damon catches his eyes, and maybe he's hoping the same thing will work on him. That there's even just a little part of him left inside, tucked away beneath the switch. One that remembers those five, torturous years, and those few weeks. Remembers everything Damon said, and everything that he said in return. The things he felt.

Enzo's wicked grin slips just barely enough to be noticeable. He holds his gaze a second longer, and it's enough for Damon to see it. A spark, a tiny little flicker. Enzo rolls his eyes, his jaw clenching, and turns back to Stefan.

With a flick, his lighter goes out. He tosses it away without looking and it lands at Damon’s feet.

"Fine," he grits out between his teeth, "I swear that I won't kill you. Or your precious little Elena," he adds as Stefan goes to open his mouth. "I'll... leave Mystic Falls."

Stefan’s still eyeing him with distrust. "You will? Just like that?"

Enzo sighs, but nods. "Yes. I suppose it would be rather pointless to kill either of you anyway since you haven't actually done anything to require my vengeance."

"I feel like that doesn't bode well for me," Damon comments, but his eyes dart to Stefan's hand, waiting to welcome the sight of it no longer in Enzo's chest. And hopefully free of his heart.

Stefan takes a second more, drawing it out as he stares at Enzo. Then he yanks his hand free. 

Damon's heart jumps multiple beats, far too many as it trips over itself, his breath catching in his throat. It quickly leaves him in a rush of relief.

Enzo winces only slightly, his jaw tightening again with a noise of discomfort. He quickly pulls away from Stefan, getting to his feet. Damon watches him uncertainly, glancing at Stefan as he wipes Enzo's blood off on his jeans.

"You can relax," Enzo says as he pulls at his jacket, covering the ripped hole in his shirt. He looks up at Damon, his head tilting and his mouth curving. "I'm not going to hurt you, either. But... I will require you to keep your word if you want me to keep mine."

Damon's already nodding, eyes wide. "Of course. Anything." And he means it, to his further surprise.

Dropping his hands from his jacket, Enzo steps closer until he's in front of him. 

"One question first," he says. His eyes move quickly between Damon's, that glint in them, searching. "Did you mean it?"

"You know, for someone with no humanity, you really sure do seem to care a lot," Damon says, trying to throw in a light chuckle.

Enzo's expression doesn't waver. He just looks at him, waiting for an answer. 

Damon's stomach sinks. He's aware of Stefan still sitting there, trying to regain his strength and obviously not wanting to let Enzo out of his sight. But Enzo needs his answer before he can keep the promise.

His eyes close, but only for a second before he nods. 

"Yeah," he breathes out, almost a sigh. "Yeah, Enzo, I meant every word of it. Then and now.”

The words have the effect he was hoping for. Something in Enzo’s eyes shifts. He can’t figure out what, but it’s something, and it’s good enough for now.

It's what has Enzo leaning in and pressing his lips to Damon's. His hand presses against his chest as Damon kisses him back. There’s a painful twist in his stomach at how familiar it is, how close it is to being right, only just missing the mark by a feeling.

Enzo pulls back. He leaves his hand on Damon's jacket. When Damon opens his eyes to look at him, blinking slowly, he’s met with Enzo’s dark and pleased gaze. 

"Right then," Enzo breathes out. That smirk easily settles back into place. "Cape Horn it is."


	2. Chapter 2

They're in Damon's car and driving past the town sign fifteen minutes later, flying down a random highway. He didn't want to just leave Stefan in that parking lot, but he didn't exactly seem too injured, and Enzo was insistent that they leave then and there or they don't leave at all. He couldn't take that risk, not after he made a promise to him. 

The sky's starting to lighten now, the pitch black turning into a lighter shade of blue as day time creeps up on them. Damon instinctively checks his hand for his ring, but it's still there on his finger. As is Enzo’s, he notes after a quick glance. He turns the wheel and swings them onto the nearest interstate. It's thankfully not busy for once.

He glances at his phone, balanced rather precariously on the dashboard, checking the little map Enzo pulled up on it before he even started the car. 

"You're awfully quiet," Enzo comments, and Damon startles. He was sure he was asleep five minutes ago when he checked. "Oh, don't tell me you're worried about concentrating on the road or some other load of rubbish. We're literally invincible, we can't die in a crash."

"No, but we can kill other people," Damon retorts. "And, you know, unless you want to have to live permanently on Cape whatever because you're hiding out from the dozens of police who will be looking for you for causing a twenty-car pile-up and murdering about thirty people, then I suggest you let me concentrate."

Enzo groans, rolling his head back to hit the seat. "God, I forgot I was the fun one."

"No, you're not, you are the more murderous one, which—" Damon laughs, though it has very little humour to it, "—if I said in front of anyone back in Mystic Falls, they wouldn’t believe it.”

"You agreed to come with me," Enzo points out. "You knew what you were in for, and you practically begged for me to let you come."

Damon scoffs, though he's not entirely wrong. Desperation got the better of him for the first time in a few decades. 

"Yeah, because if I didn't, you were going to be an idiot." Enzo snorts and Damon glances at him in disbelief. "You were the one begging my brother to rip your heart out in front of me for some revenge scheme, which — wouldn't have worked and was probably the worst idea you've ever had, and that's really saying something."

"It did work." A smirk twists Enzo's mouth, turning his head to look him in the eyes.

Damon holds his stare for a moment, his disbelief quickly turning into exasperation before he turns his eyes back on the road.  He clenches his jaw, his hands tightening around the wheel, because of course he's being smug right now. 

It's what he does best. And of course Damon likes it in that self-loathing, idiotic part of himself that falls for every bad quality, because that's apparently what _ he _ does best.

"I'm only here so that you wouldn't murder my brother or anyone else in Mystic Falls, and to make sure you don't end up as the FBI's next most wanted for leaving a trail of bodies everywhere you go," he says tightly, and tries to really mean it. 

He partially does. That counts, right?

Enzo sighs, apparently figuring out that he isn't winning this. That's a good thing, too, because Damon's pretty sure he would crack with another couple pushes from him. 

It's so easy for him to get under his skin in both the best and worst ways possible, and he doesn't need that right now when he's still trying to figure out how the hell he's going to get him to flip the switch back on.

"Why did you really suggest this?" Enzo asks, now leaning forward in his seat just a little, his eyes fixed on the side of his face. It's taking everything in Damon not to look away from the road. "If you don't want to be here? Don't want to be with me?"

Damon grits his teeth, half out of annoyance and half to stop himself from answering. Because truth be told, he wouldn’t rather be anywhere else, but he has a feeling that giving him part of the truth would lead to the whole truth about trying to fix his mess, and that doesn’t feel like it’ll benefit anyone.

"You can pretend all you want, Damon," he says, and shakes his head, "it's what you seem to be best at, after all. Ignoring things, pushing them under the rug until you're forced to confront them.

“That's why we're here, isn't it? Thought you could just sweep me under the rug until I came back, alive, so you tried to make things right. And then I find out you just swept Maggie under the rug, too."

"Thought you didn't care?" Damon shoots back without looking at him, able to see him out of the corner of his eye.

Enzo scoffs and leans back to his original position. "Nice try, but that isn't going to work on me. Switch is flipped completely, humanity is gone. You're not going to trick me into switching it back on with a few mind games that you are absolutely terrible at, by the way."

Damon bites down hard on the inside of his cheek, gnawing at it as he presses a little harder on the gas pedal. 

"I just enjoy tormenting you with guilt, because clearly you are harbouring a great deal of it or else this whole conversation wouldn't be making you all mad and… well," he waves a hand lazily at him, "like that."

"Love you, too, buddy," Damon replies dryly, his smile sarcastic even as saying it twists the knife a little deeper into his heart. This is fine. Not getting to him at all. 

It's only been about forty minutes, he is not going to be beaten this soon. He wasn't with Elena and that was more stressful than this, right? He's honestly not sure.

"Good," Enzo says, and Damon can see and feel him leaning back over in his seat, getting awfully close to him. Road, road, road, do not turn around, do not look at him.

He presses his lips tightly together as Enzo just watches him with that piercing gaze for a moment, a smirk on his lips. His hand is on his arm, his shoulder, fingers brushing the side of his neck and his cheek, and he really thinks he should be getting some credit for not looking at him right now or even letting his expression slip for a second.

Enzo hums, a satisfied little noise. If this was a test, Damon really can't tell if he just passed with flying colours or failed miserably. 

"That's good," Enzo repeats. "It'll make it that much easier to get you to flip your switch as well.”

Damon's eyes widen an inch, but otherwise, he manages to keep his composure fairly well. A little voice in the back of his head is cursing.

"That's your plan?" he asks, throwing in another scoff, trying to sound incredulous and fairly unimpressed. "Seriously? Agree to a road trip so that you can convince me to flip my switch and be your murder buddy again? Have you ever met a guy called Klaus Mikaelson, by chance? Because, I have to say, I think you two would get along really well."

"My plan was to hurt you," Enzo says, ignoring the last part. "Emotionally, you know, break you down and all that fun stuff, make you feel like you've really lost something like I did about Maggie before I flipped the switch."

By letting Stefan kill him. Damon almost wishes that Enzo knew him a little less well than he does, because despite what Stefan says, Enzo might actually have been right about that plan working. He's beyond relieved that he got to them just in time. He genuinely doesn't know what he would have done if he had been a few minutes later. 

"Sure think an awful lot of yourself if you think getting yourself killed would be enough to make me flip my switch," Damon says, a touch of annoyance seeping into his voice, because it was such a stupid plan, and Stefan would have actually killed him, he knows he would have. 

"Thinking I was dead was enough for you to flip it the first time, was it not?" Enzo replies. "That's what you said. Or were you just trying to make me forgive you with some lies and sad story about how you couldn't handle the pain of thinking you had left me to die?"

Damon knows what he's doing. He's still pushing, trying to disguise it. He practically invented this game. And yet, it's working, and that's the most insufferable part. No one is supposed to know him well enough to do this. He grits his teeth, shaking his head.

"No, it was the truth, but—"

"And, if I'm recalling correctly, that was the first time you ever flipped your switch, wasn't it?" Enzo cuts him off, not giving him the chance to argue. "Decades of anger, and hatred, and bloodlust--especially between you and Stefan, which had to have taken a toll on you at some point what with him being your little brother and you desperately clinging to this idea of him in Augustine, and yet..."

He shakes his head, pushing out an amused chuckle. Damon grips the steering wheel harder, swerving them onto the next lane to pass a slower car, carefully pulling back in front of them. 

"You never felt a need to turn off your humanity until that night," Enzo continues. "Until you were looking me in the eyes and made the decision to leave me to burn alive while I was pleading with you to help me. You had to not be able to feel at all to be able to leave me."

"What, are you a history teacher now?" Damon snaps, his heart pounding into his ribs. "This isn't going to do anything. Unless your goal is to make me throw you out of this car or crash it, which I will happily do either of right now."

"It's bothering you, isn't it?" Enzo asks, amusement reverberating through his voice. "You like to be able to forget your mistakes. Especially that one. I wonder, why did you save me back there? Another ten seconds or so and Stefan would have ripped my heart out. Why not just let him, why take the risk of me not agreeing to leave with you when you knew that I had already gone after your precious Elena before and would happily do it again?"

Damon pushes out a deep breath but refrains from closing his eyes. He chooses not to answer him. They're nearly at the end of the interstate.

"Oh, come on, Damon, humour me," Enzo practically whines. 

It's the same way he would back in their cells when he wanted to talk but Damon would refuse, feeling too weak. He'd push and prod and keep talking and whine a little until Damon eventually caved and answered him. Not this time. 

"What's even in Cape Horn that you're so interested in?" he asks instead. 

Enzo pauses. He catches a glimpse of his expression out of the corner of his eye. Unamused and a little disappointed. Damon's curiosity only grows. For a vampire with no humanity, he sure seems to feel a lot of things. He's also particularly insistent. Determined. 

Last time he checked, the only thing they feel with their switches completely flipped is bloodlust and a sense of freedom, like they can do whatever they want with no worries, even when something a little annoying gets in their way. Unless, of course, it’s flickering; not quite on and not quite off. Stuck in the middle ground. Something stopped it from going all the way.

"Peace and quiet and a beautiful view," Enzo answers bluntly. "Now. Why did you get Stefan to let me go?"

"Because saving you back at Whitmore made us even, so saving you now means you owe me one," Damon answers without missing a beat.

Enzo's head tilts, his mouth curving up, clearly pleased that he’s playing his game. "You're lying. And wrong."

"How am I wrong?" Damon asks, his brow creasing as he throws him a glance now. "I leave you to die once then save your life twice. That means you owe me one, that's how this works."

"Are you forgetting that I risked my life to get you a cure for that little ripper virus you had?" Enzo raises his eyebrows. "I literally handed myself back over to the man who had been torturing me for years to let him torture me again just so that he would cure you. I think that actually means you sparing me this time makes us even."

Damon scoffs, but he can't exactly argue. He hadn't thought about it like that. 

"What is even your point?" he snaps, his frustration getting the better of him. "You wanted to hurt me emotionally? Clearly it didn't work, because I stopped Stefan from killing you, and if you really thought that was going to work, then you would have just set yourself on fire right there and then. Or better yet, set Stefan on fire. Instead you agreed to leave town with me without any question. Why?"

"Are you not listening? I want you to flip your switch, that's why I agreed to come with you.”

"But why?" Damon presses, throwing him another glance. "Why do you want me to flip my switch so badly? I mean, aside from it meaning we'll go off murdering people together again. You wanted revenge on me, which isn't a very humanity-less thing to want, but hey, I don't make the rules. But making me switch off my humanity doesn't seem like it's going to bring you very much satisfaction."

"Oh, no, I'm pretty sure it'd bring me a lot of satisfaction," Enzo says, his grin rivalling that of the Cheshire Cat. 

Damon doesn't respond as he pulls out in front of another car. He's biting down hard on the inside of his cheek, trying to think, the wheels in his head turning. There has to be something. 

"You want me to suffer and yet you want me around as some partner in crime," he says. "Why? Making me flip my switch won't be making me suffer—in fact, I'll be doing the opposite! I won't feel a thing!"

"But it would hurt everyone you care about," Enzo says, a glint in his eyes. "You would hurt them. And if, say, you were to ever flip the switch back… you'd have to live with that guilt."

"You know, that's not a very compelling argument for why I should go along with this plan."

Enzo hums, almost laughing, and Damon glances at him. He's staring straight ahead now, thankfully, but amusement shines in his eyes.

"Neither was yours for why I should be here," he counters. "Yet here I am. Don't worry, Damon, it's only a matter of time. And we have a lot of that now thanks to you. A road trip really was a fantastic idea."

Damon stares at him, his mouth opening in disbelief. He's forced to turn back to the road as he grits his teeth, stopping himself from saying anything else. He's only making it worse, he can feel it. It's not getting him anywhere. 

Talking was always Enzo's speciality; he's known from the moment they met how to get him to even when he would otherwise keep it all in his head.  _ Yeah, Damon _ , he thinks, sarcasm dripping from his own thoughts,  _ a road trip was a  _ fantastic _ idea _ .

At least he has something more to work with now. He knows Enzo's plan. All he has to do is derail it and twist it around on him somehow. That's a start, and he is more than capable of figuring out how to make it work. 

Enzo may know how to get him to spill every thought that enters his head with just a look, but Damon knows him just as well. And as long as no one's being murdered, he's counting it as a success.

He catches Enzo shifting out of the corner of his eye and throws him a cautious glance. He's still not looking at him, though, his own eyes darting around them, as if searching for something. Damon has no idea what considering they're closed in by other cars on either side, and beyond that, rows of trees and more highways.

"We should find a gas station," Enzo decides, rather abruptly, Damon thinks. 

"What? Why? We have practically a full tank," he points out, checking the metre to be sure. 

Enzo rolls his eyes. "To make sure we won't run out. And because I'm hungry."

The realization clicks. Maybe he spoke too soon on the no murder part. A vampire with no humanity is pretty hard to talk into the whole snatch, eat, erase thing. Part of him is desperately hoping that Enzo's history with rationing will make him more logical rather than more bloodthirsty. Clearly the scales are already tilted towards the latter if the past few weeks have been anything to go on. 

"Fine," Damon says, shrugging, playing it cool. "There's one a few miles ahead, just after the highway."

"And somewhere to stay for the night," Enzo adds. 

Damon looks at him in exasperation. "Seriously?"

"Unless you want to sleep in this car, then yes." Enzo finally glances back over at him, his brow crumpling. "Did you think it would only take us a couple of hours to get there?"

"Well—" Damon nods, throwing a hand out, "—yeah, kind of! Where the hell is Cape whatever it is for it to require us to find somewhere for the night? Don't boats have beds and let you, you know, sleep in them if they're taking you somewhere?"

Enzo makes a noise of amusement. Damon's eyes dart to him in confusion.

"They do, and that would be terrific," Enzo says, and Damon can sense a  _ but _ coming. "If we were getting a ship there. Problem is that they no longer take people over. Something about the danger of the rocks and the water or whatever load of rubbish they spouted on about."

"Hold on, so, how exactly are we getting to this island then? Do we have to get a plane?"

"We could, yeah."

"Great!" Damon leans forward to reroute the map on his phone for the nearest airport. "Plane it is then."

"If you don't think you can handle being alone with me in this car for three days."

Damon stops, his thumb hovering over the keyboard. His eyes snap back up to him.

"Three days?" he repeats incredulously, and only receives that sly smirk in response. "Just to drive there?"

"Oh, come on, is that really so long?" Enzo asks with a note of completely fake innocence that's working too damn well. There's something sincere about it as well, though perhaps Damon's being too hopeful. "Three days there, a day or two actually on the island, and then...well, the rest of the plan is rather open-ended, isn't it?"

Damon bites the inside of his cheek, because he hates that plan. He hates that he loves the idea of it, of just going wherever they want to go together. It was one of their plans in Augustine, for when they were finally free. To just go all over the world. This isn't how that plan is supposed to go, and he hates that he wants to do it anyway despite everything else.

Enzo sighs, and Damon guesses something must show on his face as he stares ahead at the road, trying to weigh his options. What's least likely to end in utter disaster. 

"I'm not kidnapping you," Enzo says, and it's Damon's imagination that makes him sound the tiniest bit offended. "You know, you can just turn right back around. Go home if you want to."

He doesn't miss the way he says home. His eyebrows furrow the tiniest bit as he shoots him a side-glance. Enzo isn't looking to notice, and his expression is hard to read, but there's something there. Something that gnaws away at Damon as Enzo watches the cars they pass. 

This was his plan. And he knew it wasn't exactly going to be easy. But Enzo has never given up on him, and he can't help being hopeful. 

"No." He shakes his head, catching Enzo looking back over at him. "I'd rather be here."

Enzo's doesn't seem to know how to react to that. Surprise, confusion. The barest flicker of something pushed deep down in the backs of his eyes, turning dark for a split second. Damon holds his stare for the second that he can afford to. 

Then Enzo blinks too quickly and too many times and it's gone. Shifts back to carefree and unburdened. Mostly. Damon has a feeling that he can change that in just a day. He’ll just have to channel his inner Stefan. Or his inner Lexi, he thinks with a shudder.

"So,” he says. “Nearest gas station."

* * *

  
  


They keep driving until they're off the highway, and half a mile after, manage to find it. Damon pulls the car in at one of the fuel pumps. 

"Back in a minute," Enzo says, already opening the car door and getting out. 

Damon hurries to follow. "Hold on. Where are you going?"

"To pay for the gas," Enzo replies as if it should be obvious, walking backwards, gesticulating vaguely. "And find something to eat? And drink? Haven't had anything since that weird little bar yesterday. You know, before I found out that you murdered the ex-love of my life."

Damon grits his teeth and tries not to let it sting even a little. It still does, like a sharp needle prodding into the tough exterior of his cold, supposedly undead, yet miraculously still beating, heart. 

Enzo smirks, smug, triumphant, and spins back around, his goal clearly reached. 

Resigned, Damon lets him go, begrudgingly busying himself with the gas like Enzo instructed. As he fills the empty canister with one hand, he uses the other to check his phone. 

According to the map, they can keep driving for another three hours, just after it hits eight in the morning, and they'll be able to check into a hotel right on the border of a little town. Or there's one about sixty miles up the road if they take the road on the left at the third crossroad. It  _ has  _ been a long day.

The map is quickly closed as Stefan's name appears instead, buzzing in his hand as it rings. He hesitates, glancing over his shoulder at the store. Enzo's still moving down the aisles, scanning over the shelves. Hopefully too distracted to pick anything up. 

Damon turns back and swipes the green icon along the screen, holding his phone up to his ear. 

"Hello, brother," he greets with false cheer, forcing a pointless grin. "What's up? Missing me already? And here I was this entire time thinking that you wanted to be rid of me."

" _ Where are you, Damon? _ " Stefan's voice comes through to him, lacking any sense of amusement.  _ Like usual, then _ . 

Damon clicks his tongue. "Sorry, baby bro, can't tell you that. Left for a reason, remember? I don't need you chasing after me trying to be all heroic. Think of it as me pulling a you when you decided to practically fake your death for months. Sort of."

" _ Cape Horn, right? _ " Stefan asks, clearly ignoring him. " _ You're on your way there, so, you must still be nearby. Just tell me where, and I'll come up with a plan. We can figure out a way to get rid of him together. You don't have to do this alone, Damon. _ "

Damon's eyebrows furrow. "'Get rid of him'?" he repeats in confusion. "I'm trying to turn his humanity back on, not rip his heart out. That's your style — which is exactly why I'm not telling you where we are."

He can practically hear Stefan rolling his eyes. He’s pretty sure that something is getting lost in communication here. 

" _ Damon, I get it _ ," Stefan says, and Damon's not entirely sure what it is he's getting, because he doesn't sound so agreeable. " _ You have to say whatever Enzo wants to hear, and I understand why you agreed to this plan. But just tell me where you are, I can come and meet you, and we can put an end to this. And you can drop the act. You can't be that far outside of town, right? _ "

"What act?" Damon questions, pulling the gas pump out of the canister and quickly putting it back in its stand. 

" _ About having feelings for him? Look, I know that you two had a thing while your humanity was off, and obviously you have history from your time in Augustine, but you don't need to pretend to be in love with this lunatic to get him to flip his switch back on. We can find another way to get him out of our lives _ ."

"Get him out of our — where was this attitude when Klaus was convincing you to leave town with him?!" Damon asks in exasperated disbelief.

He throws another glance at the store, turning halfway to look through the windows. Enzo's at the counter now, talking to the woman behind it, a smile on both their faces. He's leaning forward on both hands as she scans a couple of items. 

" _ Is he there? _ " Stefan's voice is confused now. " _ Why are you being so deflective? Just snap his neck and tie him up. He seems easily distracted by you, it shouldn't be too hard. _ "

Damon turns back around, staring at the roof of his car in further disbelief. The most irritating part is that Stefan is being completely flippant about it, as if everything he's saying is simple. Easy. That he would have already done it by now. 

In all fairness, he clearly would have considering he was ready to rip his heart out less than two hours ago.

"I'm not killing him," he hisses into the phone. "And I'm not manipulating him just so I can knock him out and betray him, either!"

" _ You're already manipulating him. _ "

"All I did was tell him I'd leave town with him! That's, like, the bare minimum of manipulation, and I should know! I was saving his life."

" _ Damon, come on, _ " Stefan says, as if there's some big secret between them. " _ You don't really have feelings for him. I know what you're like, and you've done this before. You pretended you felt the same so that you could get him out of Mystic Falls and away from Elena. He was threatening to hurt her and me for revenge, so you did what you had to. That, believe it or not, is called manipulation, but I get it. You just have to do it a little bit longer. _ "

Damon stops, his eyebrows furrowing, replaying his words over and over again in his head. There's definitely something getting lost.

"Hold on," he says, "why don't you think I actually care about him?"

Stefan practically scoffs in response. Damon grits his teeth again, the irritation rising, simmering into slow anger. 

" _ Because you haven't cared about anyone other than Elena. You really expect me to believe that her breaking up with you had nothing to do with you sleeping with this guy? You were pissed off and upset about not having Elena anymore. That's not love, it's — it's a one-night stand. It's meaningless, just like every other "ex" who's shown up for revenge on you. _ "

The simmering turns to boiling. He assures himself that Stefan's wrong. He doesn't know a thing about him or how he feels, just assumes, because that's easy, isn't it? Easy to believe that Damon could only fall for Elena and no one else. There's a sharp prick in his tongue and he pulls it back to avoid his fangs tearing right through it as he pushes out a breath.

"You're wrong," he says, lowering his voice and talking faster now. "I don't care what you think, but I am not manipulating Enzo, because I do care about him. Just because your entire world revolves around Elena, doesn't mean mine does as well. Don't call me again, it could make Enzo suspicious and I don't want him thinking something's going on."

He hangs up before Stefan can say anything else. Catching the sound of Enzo's voice and the scrape of shoes against linoleum, he hurries to stuff his phone back into his pocket and busy himself with kneeling down to screw the cap back on the canister. Nothing out of the ordinary. 

Footsteps approach from behind. Not just one pair, but two, he can tell. That earlier dread that had left him returns with a swift kick to his stomach, already able to connect the dots on where this is going. 

"See?" Enzo's voice speaks up just before the footsteps stop. "Told you I wouldn't take long. We're all paid for, and I even got us something to eat. For the road and to satiate us now."

Damon turns his head and looks over his shoulder despite not needing to. Sure enough, Enzo's got a hand on the woman’s back, guiding her along. Although, strangely enough, she doesn't look that bothered. But there's no glazed, compelled look in her bright green eyes. They're sharp and clear, only made more piercing by her jet black hair curling around her face.

"Sure that's smart?" he tries, standing back up and hauling the canister with him. He shrugs. "I mean, you did just use my credit card here. Assuming you didn’t steal any of that.”

"If you're implying that I'm going to kill this nice lady, then you're wrong, and I'm insulted," Enzo says. 

He arches an eyebrow, and Enzo turns to smile at the woman. She doesn't look the least bit bothered by the conversation of her possibly being murdered, and yet, Damon is still sure that she's not compelled. He knows the look and she doesn't have it. But she also doesn't have the same feel of a witch, either. 

He studies her with narrowed eyes. "Werewolf?"

That would be too much of a coincidence, surely. Finding a werewolf just outside of Mystic Falls who doesn't happen to mind letting two vampires feed on her? It doesn't happen. At least not to him. 

Sure enough, she laughs and Enzo rolls his eyes, confirming that she's definitely not a werewolf. He can't help but be a bit relieved about that; his history with wolves hasn't been the best so far if Mason Lockwood is anything to go on. Or Tyler. Or Klaus, for that matter. 

And Jules—she was truly the worst. Watching Rose deteriorate at their doing. It's given him a deep-seat hatred for them that he just can't shake. Not when he still sees her face sometimes when he closes his eyes, or she comes to him in his sleep. 

"Human," Enzo says. "Eliza here is just… well informed. And rather generous."

Damon cocks his head at the smile she flashes Enzo. He groans. 

"So, vampire fanatic? Moved here in the hopes of running into one of the mysterious vampires that people whisper about roaming around Virginia?"

"Not at all," Eliza says, but her voice says otherwise. She shrugs. "I just like it here. Lucky coincidence, I guess."

Damon scoffs, not buying it for a second.

"Ignore him, love." Enzo turns to properly face her. "He's in a bit of a mood. But I certainly appreciate your generosity."

As he says it, he brushes a few strands of hair away from her neck, revealing the pale, unmarked skin. Her pulse isn't quite steady, throwing in an extra beat as it loops around itself. 

Damon can see the veins in her neck, just beneath the surface. How easy it would be to tear into. With the way Enzo's gazing at her, he's having the same thought, the corners of his mouth edging up.

Something twists in Damon's stomach, lurching forward like his insides have been strung upside down. He presses his lips together tightly and pushes it far down. They're vampires, they feed on people. It's what they do, and what they don't do is mindless, pointless, ridiculous jealousy.

"Go ahead," Eliza says, her voice lowering like some siren luring her prey in. Unnecessarily brushing her hand over her neck to fully pull her hair over the other shoulder and holding it there. "I don't bite."

Enzo hums in amusement in the joke. Damon can barely stop himself from rolling his eyes, clenching his teeth. This is good, this is a good plan. Enzo wants to feed on someone who's willing. 

What does it matter if that involves a little bit of extra touching with his arm wrapped around her and a hand on her waist and his gaze fixed so intently on her neck like it's the most beautiful thing ever?

"Well, I certainly do," Enzo says. 

He leans in without another word, his head tilting and his lips parting. Fangs quickly extend, just barely poking out to pierce through her delicate skin. Eliza's eyes flutter closed. She exhales softly, her shoulders sinking as Enzo tugs her the tiniest bit closer, his face burying in her neck. 

Something that Damon isn't going to give the time of day twists up inside of him like an angry snake coiling itself up, ready to strike as he turns away from them. 

Meaningless, Stefan's voice echoes back to him, like some little voice of reason. Except nothing Stefan has ever said in his life has been reasonable. It has to be true for now, though, or else he might snap Team Edward's neck by accident. 

Hauling the cannister up, he moves around to the trunk, still open. He catches Enzo pressing Eliza against the car, a hand carefully keeping her head tilted with the other firmly planted on her waist. 

"Hey, can you avoid getting blood on my car, please?" The irritation in his voice is barely disguised as he slams the trunk back down. "I just cleaned it a week ago."

Enzo pulls back, rolling his eyes. Blood coats his lips, especially the bottom, like a thin layer of lipstick. It drips the slightest bit but he catches it with a swipe of his tongue, letting it then drag across his lip. It’s practically pornographic. 

Damon swears he's trying to get to him as Enzo turns his head and locks eyes with him. The black veins slither up beneath his skin for just a second. The last of the red fades away as he raises an eyebrow at him.

"Relax, would you?" He motions his head to Eliza, who looks like she's in some sort of trance with an open-mouthed smile as she drags her fingers around the edge of the pin-head-sized holes in her neck. "Come on. Have a taste."

"Not hungry," Damon dismisses and moves back around, intending to put the bag Enzo just abandoned on the ground in the car. 

"You're a vampire, you're always hungry," Enzo counters, and he's not wrong, unfortunately. 

Damon rolls his eyes, purposefully stretching around Eliza to drop the bag into the backseat. 

"Is this part of your master plan?" Damon asks him. So maybe he's a little wound up from their conversation still. 

Enzo's eyebrow quirks higher, curiosity sparking in his eyes. "A little hurt, are we?"

"Would you care if I was?" Damon retorts, because if he wants to push and prod then he'll play his game. 

But Enzo doesn't snark back at him like he did in the car. He's quiet for a brief moment. Something in his eyes darkens and his eyelids twitch so subtly he nearly misses it. Then they clear and Enzo sighs.

"You're not going to get another opportunity until we're at the hotel, and even then, you'll be lucky if you can get a minute alone," he says, adding a point of logic to his enticing undertones. "Better to have a drink the now. Besides..."

He looks back to Eliza, who doesn't seem to mind being left out of the conversation, still riding the high that typically comes from a vampire feeding on a human. As a smile curves his lips once more, he brings his hand up to stroke the back of his fingers along her throat, avoiding the sensitive skin he was fixated on before. 

Damon will admit, his mouth is a little dry. He can still see the blood on Enzo's lips and Eliza's neck. One drink wouldn't exactly be the end of the world. It's not as if he's Stefan, and he could be wrong, but Enzo seems to have no intention of killing this random woman, surprisingly.

Stepping forward, he watches warily as Enzo lifts one of Eliza's hands. He pushes her sleeve back to expose the thin skin of her wrist, her pale complexion lined with the dark blue and purple of the veins running all the way up to the crook of her elbow. A slight ache in Damon's jaw seals the deal.

But it's Enzo that has him make a move; he lifts her wrist to his own blood-stained lips and lets his fangs pierce through, his gaze locked with Damon's. Something about it feels wrong, aside from the obvious issue with feeding out in the open in growing daylight. 

Yet Damon can't stop himself from taking Eliza's other hand and bringing it to his mouth as he feels his fangs extend. He pushes them in with ease, creating two clean little holes. Blood immediately starts to flow. As he drinks, Enzo grins.

It's easy for him to forget their situation. As if they're still trying to avoid the inevitable of Damon losing control of the ripper virus in his system with Enzo turning people into vampires just for him to feed on. No matter how many times Damon tried to make him leave so that he wouldn't get hurt, he stayed. It's why Damon knows he can't leave him. Not again. 

It only lasts a moment or so; Damon makes sure not to let it go for longer than that, pulling away much sooner than Enzo would clearly like. But he doesn't complain. He rolls his eyes but surprisingly extracts himself as well, wiping at the corner of his mouth with his thumb. 

He then smiles at Eliza, moving a hand to the side of her neck and getting her to look at him. For a brief moment, Damon thinks he's going to compel her to forget.

It's at least better than killing her, he points out to himself. Probably better for their safety as well, really, what with her being so close to Mystic Falls.

"Remember what I told you?" Enzo asks, but his voice doesn't dip down into that soft, melodic tone that comes with compelling someone. His smile widens as Eliza nods. "Good. This'll be our little secret then. And I've got your number safe and sound. Just in case.”

Eliza smirks like they're really sharing some secret between just the two of them. Damon's eyes narrow at Enzo in disbelief. No humanity, he reminds himself, meaning no attachment to anything. No feelings. 

He gets how this goes, and harmless flirting doesn't bother him. Except a phone number doesn't sound so harmless, and neither does the way Enzo winks at her before finally stepping back to let her go back inside the store. 

As she passes him, she grins at Damon, all smug and triumphant. He grits his teeth but stays quiet, forcing a tight-lipped smile in return. Enzo's eyes follow her as he leans against the car, watching her saunter away with a sway of her hips, covering the bite mark on her neck. 

Enzo lets out a sigh, and says, "Lovely gal, wasn't she?"

"Delightful."

Enzo turns his head to look at him in confusion. "What's got you so grumpy? Thought a drink would cheer you up a bit.”

Damon rolls his eyes. "Let's just go, all right? We've got the gas, you got your meal, and I'd actually like to get to Cape Horn at some point."

Something flickers in Enzo's eyes and Damon knows he should have tried harder to mask the annoyance in his voice. He ignores the look Enzo shoots him, moving to walk back around the car so that they can get the hell out of here. They've already lingered longer than they should have and risked exposure. 

"Hold on." Enzo pushes off of the car and is quick to take hold of Damon's arm, stopping him. Sighing, Damon begrudgingly turns back to face him and is met with furrowed brows but an amused expression. "There's no need to go off in a huff."

"I'm not — can we please just go?" Damon waves a hand at the car insistently. "Stefan's probably already on his way to try and find us, and I have a feeling that I'm not going to be able to stop either of you from trying to kill each other again, which kinda negates the whole point of this."

"Well, you're right about that." 

Damon rolls his eyes and goes to shake him off, and just get in the car so that they can go.

"All right, all right," Enzo says.

He holds him in place, turning him back toward him again with a sigh. It seems irritated, not too pleased about having to have the conversation at all, but the lack of humanity dulls it slightly. 

Damon just stares at him, waiting for this to be over so that he can get back to trying to figure out what's gonna be enough to flip his switch back on. Maybe he'll have to take him back to Whitmore. Killing Matt worked for Elena.

Whether it's part of his facade or not, Enzo softens his gaze and smiles in a way that's so close to being familiar. If it weren't for that lack of anything in his eyes, the blankness that makes it all feel so pointless and devoid of sincerity, no matter what's about to come out of his mouth. 

Damon's already prepared for it, he knows how this game works. 

"I'll stop teasing," Enzo says, and he isn't at all convinced. "Clearly it's making you jealous, which I really couldn't care less about to be honest, but I don't want you up and leaving because I was flirting with someone else."

Damon just shakes his head, pursing his lips. Enzo rolls his eyes at his silence. 

"Fine, deny it all you want," he says, and that smug smirk is back. "Though you certainly didn't back in Mystic Falls."

"You done?"

"No matter." Enzo ignores him as if he didn't say a word. 

He moves his hands from Damon's arm to straighten out the front of his jacket instead, then leaves his hands resting on his chest. Just like in Mystic Falls. 

"Wouldn't want you ruining the plan this soon. So, I can assure you, that woman and anyone else means nothing to me. Literally, I can't feel anything for them even if I wanted to, trick of the switch."

"Nice speech," Damon says flatly, earning him an exasperated sigh. "Can we leave now or am I going to this Cape place myself?"

"How hard is it for you to remember the name, seriously? It's two words. Just two. Both vampire-demon related as well, you'd think that would make it a lot harder to forget every single time."

A slow smirk curves Damon's mouth, forced, and he leans in close to tilt his head and widen his eyes in mock innocence.

"I don't care," he says, emphasizing for just a little bit of effect. And just because he's feeling petty enough. "Hey, would you look at that. I'm already a step closer to doing what you want. Maybe you'll win after all. Now get in the damn car."

Enzo doesn't even blink at his tone or how close he's gotten. His eyes do move slowly though, from Damon's unwavering stare to his mouth, his head tilting. It's infuriating, because he's so fucking calm and acting like nothing matters, and Damon just wants him to react. 

Him hating him would have been so much better than this, because at least then he would be angry at him, he would still be trying to ruin his life. Calling him a monster, throwing things, anything but standing here in front of him like he doesn't even care. Because he doesn't. 

Damon's stomach drops. This. This is exactly what he did to Enzo, back in Augustine. This is the feeling that he left him with in that moment, when he looked at him like he meant nothing to him. Because he didn't. 

No humanity, no attachments, no feelings. All right. So maybe he deserves this. Karma's finally catching up to him. 

And Enzo has the audacity to smile at him like that, with his hands still on his chest. He's leaning in before Damon can really process it, head angling perfectly because of course he knows what he's doing. Damon gets the sense he just lost this round when Enzo's lips press against his own and he kisses back without any push. 

_ It shouldn't be this easy _ , he thinks again.

A few, long, stretching seconds pass, then Damon pulls back enough to break the kiss. Not enough to lose the close feeling that he admittedly clung to when they were hunting down Wes and before they were inevitably separated again because of him. After having a wall between them for five years, he craved the feeling of being so close to him, and he hates it. Hates it like he hates needing anyone or anything in his life.

"So..." Enzo draws his eyes back up to him, "that hotel? How far is it from here?"

Damon is both wary and curious about the way he asks. His hands haven't moved from his chest. He hasn't even taken a step back, not making a single move to get away from him.  _ The plan _ , Damon reminds himself, _ he's using you _ . 

Forcing a smile, Damon motions his head to the car. "Just a mile up the road."

"Fantastic. Let's go."

He pulls away now, letting his hand trail over Damon's shoulder as he walks around him to get into the passenger side. Damon takes a moment to join him, taking a deep breath. 

This isn't that hard. He just needs to stop himself from falling for this act. He managed with Elena, right? And he never trusted Stefan without humanity. Enzo is no different. 

If Lexi manages to push Stefan back onto the right path every time, then he can do the same with Enzo. It's just one, tiny little switch. The same switch that no one could get  _ him _ to flip back on for fifty years. 

He gets back in the car with a sigh of resignation and finally pulls them out of the gas station, heading for the hotel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We love a bit of angst and jealousy, do we not? I hope you enjoy, and tell me how badly you think this could end...


	3. Chapter 3

With a room compelled out of the young man behind the desk of the hotel, they settle in for the night. Or morning, Damon supposes, the sun fully risen now. Damon’s preparing himself for roughly six more days of this. Except, once he's actually in one of the beds, he can't for the life of him make himself fall asleep. 

Maybe it's because he can hear the water running from the extended bathroom just a few feet away. Because of course Enzo chooses now to go for a shower. 

Damon groans into the pillow. This is his fault. It's karma, he's sure. For every bad thing he's ever done in his life, and there is a long, long list of them. And for Maggie. She's the whole reason he's here, in a stupid motel with a humanity-less Enzo. 

Couldn't have just spared one person, could he? Nope. He just had to kill her. See, this is the problem with that humanity switch. Once it's off, there's just no reason to care about anything. It shouldn't be so easy to flip. 

Why give beings that already have the ability to hurt people the added bonus of not feeling remorse or guilt? Why not make it a humanity lever? Or a big, giant red button encased in glass reading "DO NOT PRESS OR RISK KILLING EVERYONE"? Or at least make it easier to turn back on.

Rolling himself over, he digs the heels of his hands into his eyes, hoping maybe it'll block everything out long enough to let him actually sleep. He can't handle another day on the road running on this little sleep, even as a vampire. At this rate, it's going to take them a whole month. 

To make his life even worse, his phone buzzes in his pocket. He sighs but takes it out to check it, only to immediately regret it. Stefan. Of course. Who else would be calling him?

Glancing at the bathroom door, he then goes against his better judgement and answers, lowering his voice as he speaks.

"Calling to explain my feelings to me again and tell me about how I'm manipulating the one person in my life who actually wants me around even when he's a little off the rails?" he asks, skipping the greeting entirely. 

Stefan sighs on the other end, sounding weary. " _ Do you want me to apologize? Will that make this easier? _ "

"I'm not coming back, not until Enzo's humanity is back in check," Damon tells him bluntly. He then adds, "But an apology wouldn't kill you."

" _ At least tell me what your plan is, _ " Stefan says. " _ I know you; you're reckless and impulsive, but you at least usually have a plan. So, just tell me what it is so that I can tell Elena there's nothing to worry about and that you have this under control. _ "

Damon closes his eyes. The way Stefan says Elena's name doesn't fly past him unnoticed. It's the same voice he uses when he's trying to talk him down from something, convince him there's a better way. For Elena's sake. But this isn't about Elena.

It's about Enzo, and getting him back. Trying to right Damon's mistakes. He can't give up on him. He won't. Enzo would never have flipped the switch if it wasn't for what he did. If he turned back now, told Stefan where they are, he might as well just set fire to the hotel room. Leaving him again isn't an option he's willing to consider.

"I have this under control," he says, then takes a deep breath and adds, "I don't know how long it's gonna take for me to come back, but I need you to trust me, and that I know what I'm doing."

" _ That would be easier if I didn't know that you saying you know what you're doing really means you're going to do something stupid. Tell me that Enzo isn't getting into your head. _ "

"He's been in my head for sixty-one years, Stefan," Damon says flatly. "I don't care if you don't understand. It's why I need to do this."

He can hear the start of Stefan's protest, but he's already ending the call. There's a chance he'll regret this. But it’s a chance he has to take. 

Sighing, he tightens his fingers around his phone, squeezing. There's a sharp crack and he feels it bend, hearing all of its inner workings being crushed in a grip that feels like nothing at all to him. He lets it fall to the floor, now rendered useless.

As he pushes himself up, the bathroom door opens. Damon looks over to find Enzo leaning against the doorframe with one arm. A towel's wrapped lazily around his waist, barely hanging on. Not that Enzo seems to care.

"Did you say something?" he asks. "Thought I heard my name."

"That would be your ego talking," Damon quips, but his mouth curves as he stands. He kicks the broken phone under the bed with ease while Enzo rolls his eyes.

"Funny," he says dryly. "Well, now that I know you're not losing your mind, if you'll excuse me."

"What if I don't?" Damon quickly asks.

It freezes him to the spot. Enzo raises an eyebrow at him, his mouth twitching up with a short chuckle.

"It wasn't really a question." He flicks his eyes over him once, slow and precise. "I'm going back in either way. But feel free to try and stop me."

Damon shakes his head, approaching one deliberate step at a time, humming in the back of his throat. Despite his words, Enzo seems quite happy to stay right where he is, watching him with confusion but utter intrigue.

"I'd rather join you," Damon says at last. 

Now that definitely has Enzo's attention. He straightens, dropping his arm from the frame as Damon stops in front of him. 

"I can't tell if this is another attempt to get me to switch my humanity back on," Enzo gives him another look over, his head tilting, a slow smirk curving his mouth, "or if you've finally lost your own?"

Damon shakes his head again and Enzo's smirk slips a little. 

"No," he says. "I want to make a deal. You don't try and turn mine off and I'll stop trying to get you to turn yours on. We'll both enjoy this road trip a lot more if neither of us are worrying about it or manipulating the other through some ridiculous mind game."

Enzo doesn't look like he's buying into it at all. Of course he's still suspicious. Damon obviously does have something up his sleeve, but he means it. If he's going to be spending the next six to seven to who knows how many days with No-Humanity-Enzo then he might as well make the most of it or else he could lose any chance he actually has, and he's already come far too close to that tonight.

"And what exactly would I gain from that?" Enzo asks.

"Is a trip to Cape wherever with me not enough for you?" Damon jokes, taking another step, bringing him close enough to see the drops of water clinging to his hair and skin, to his surprisingly long lashes. "You have no humanity, so a grudge really isn't that big of a deal to you, right?"

Enzo stares at him, expression giving nothing other than confusion away. Damon's hoping for agreement, for this to be easy, but he's expecting to be scoffed at and told that humanity or not, a grudge is a grudge. His own dulled quite a bit after Augustine, when his own switch was flipped. Hence why Stefan's life was probably pretty damn good after the second war, at least up until the nineties. 

Then Enzo smirks, his eyes dancing. "I guess it's not."

Damon's surprise is brief as Enzo reaches out, winding a hand around the back of his neck to pull him in. He obliges with ease, perhaps a little too much of it, instinct kicking in for a second. As soon as Enzo's lips are against his, he falls into the old pattern and kisses back, pressing into him.

Doubt only kicks in for a second, pulling him back uncertainly. This is a bad idea, right? Enzo gives him another look of confusion, which then dissolves into exasperated understanding.

"Don't overthink it," Enzo tells him softly, eyes half-lidded and voice so enticing. "You want this. I want this. Humanity or not, that isn't going to change. I know what I'm doing and you're not taking advantage of me, so stop teasing and come here.”

That resolves his doubts, he supposes. Damon can't exactly argue with that; if Enzo knows what he wants, then so be it. He presses forward, lips meeting eager and rough in between. He pushes him back into the bathroom and gives the door a kick to shut it behind him.

* * *

  
  
Stepping out of the shower, Damon takes the dry towel from the bar. He wraps it around his waist, not bothering to dry the rest of him off. He's somehow both more relaxed than he's felt in a while, which isn't surprising considering he's out of Mystic Falls, and yet also exhausted to a point where he's pretty sure he could sleep until they got to Cape Horn.

The water shuts off and he senses Enzo behind him a second later. Feels the heat from his skin, barely inches from his own, still farther away than he was just a few minutes ago. Damon's eyes close as Enzo drags his fingers up through the back of his still-damp hair, twisting into it. He tilts his head back as Enzo grazes his neck with a feather-light kiss, presses his lips to his shoulder.

"See? Did I not say that would be better than holding onto the past?" Damon asks, trailing his own hand along the arm Enzo's slowly winding around his waist, clearly trying to be sly about it.

Enzo makes a noise of agreement. "So much better."

Relief settles in Damon at hearing it. This is better. What's the point in hostility and relentless arguments that were almost always going to leave Damon on the losing side when they could be doing this, like before, in those few weeks of peace they had together. 

"I forgot how good that feels," Enzo adds, the words a murmur against his shoulder, inching back to his neck with a smirk. 

"Hmm," Damon smiles, running his fingers over the back of his hand, right on the edge of the towel, "I'll take that as a compliment. But if you keep going, we're gonna need to get back in the shower. And I don't know about you, but I need my beauty sleep if we're going to get to this island at some point this week."

Enzo chuckles, but the hand on his waist stays where it is except for his thumb slipping under the towel. 

"Are you sure?" His voice is barely above a whisper, a soft purr right beneath his ear. He gives the towel a careful tug. "Because I think you're gorgeous as is. All of you."

Damon rolls his eyes with a scoff. "Nice try, but I know better than anyone that you'd say anything with your humanity off to get what you want. Which, I would love to give to you… or let you give to me, but I'm the one driving, and it’s getting very close to noon. We’re taking this creatures of the night thing a little too literally."

Enzo groans into his shoulder, but he pulls his hand back, dragging along his waist. "Fine."

He presses one more kiss to the space right between his neck and shoulder, nearly in the dip of his collarbone. Then he steps back completely. Damon unashamedly stares as Enzo walks out of the bathroom and back into their room. He watches him drop his towel in favour of pulling on his underwear.

Adjusting his own towel, he lingers in the bathroom for a moment. A small smile works its way onto his face. This could end horribly, he knows that. So many things could go wrong. But the risk is worth it. If it's the only way to be with Enzo, even if it takes fifty years to turn his humanity on, he'll stay. He'll find a way, but his priority is to just be there for him through it. He could certainly have used someone by his side when he flipped his own. 

"Are you spending the night in there?" Enzo calls through to him, now pulling a t-shirt on. 

"Missing me already?" Damon jokes, but he follows after him now, picking up his clothes as he strides into the room. "I didn't know you were so needy."

He moves over to the bed he's claimed as his own for tonight and pulls his towel off to ruffle his hair with it, giving it a quick dry. Enzo merely rolls his eyes at the comment, dropping onto his bed and propping himself up on his elbows. Perfect position for his eyes to rake over Damon as he gets dressed. Or at least pulls on one less item of clothing than him.

"That would imply feelings and needing anything aside from blood and fun," Enzo says. He flashes him a cheery smile, spreading his hands out without moving his arms. "Which I am not burdened with. If anyone's needy here, it's the one who begged the other to be here."

Damon scoffs but he doesn't take the bait. He knows what it's like to be without his humanity;  Enzo said he won't push him to turn his humanity off as well but he's certainly not going to stop reminding him every now and then the joy of losing it. Damon just needs to let him see there can be some joy in having it even after seventy years of torture and suffering.

"So, should we do breakfast tomorrow?" Damon asks, tossing his towel to the bottom of the bed. "Or... later, I suppose?"

"Well, we're going to be on the road pretty much all day if you want to get to Cape Horn within the three days, so, we're going to need something to eat at some point. As long as it's decent, I don't care where we stop off."

"Good to know." Damon turns to him. "We should get some sleep, then."

Enzo's smirk is back. "I absolutely agree. You should come to bed."

"Oh, real smooth," Damon says dryly. Then he tilts his head, regarding Enzo. "Fine."

Enzo raises an eyebrow as Damon approaches the bed. "That was easy."

Damon just shrugs, not giving a real response. It  _ was _ easy. But Enzo doesn't seem to mind as Damon gets under the covers. He just follows his lead with that smirk still clinging to the corners of his lips, as if Damon can't see it. Or maybe he just doesn't care. 

"Try anything and I'm not letting you drive," Damon warns lightly, rolling onto his side to face away from him. 

"You're no fun," Enzo says, but there's a playful note to his voice. 

He does press in closer to Damon, and he does let his mouth brush along his bare shoulder, into the crook of his neck. But he leaves it there, pulling back after a moment. Damon feels him settle down behind him, the distance he puts between them by rolling onto his side as well. He almost regrets saying it. 

But if this is going to work, he needs to do it right. And even without humanity, Enzo's surprisingly cooperative. This could actually work. So long as he doesn't wake up to find that Enzo's taken off with his car, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, it's not a road trip fic if there isn't at least one chapter with them in a hotel and a little bit of bedsharing and flirting, now is it?


	4. Chapter 4

Enzo is, shockingly, still there when he wakes up. And very much so; despite facing away from him when they fell asleep, he's somehow managed to find his way back to him with an arm thrown over him. It's really on Damon for rolling onto his back at some point, he thinks. Made it too easy. 

When he wakes Enzo, he just receives a sleepy smirk in response to telling him to move. He listens after some typical teasing in the form of pretending he's not awake enough yet, using his blunt, human teeth to nip at his jaw. When Damon doesn't take the bait, he rolls away and they're able to get up and properly dressed to head out. 

Enzo's still delightfully surprised when Damon tosses the keys to him. He was right. It's a lot more fun being in a car with him when neither of them are pushing the other to confess something or to snap. They're able to just relax, roof down, some ACDC song blaring at high volume. The air is hot, the sun bright since they only slept for three hours at most, and slightly irritating his eyes. Fortunately, he keeps a couple pairs of sunglasses close by for days like this.

He hands a pair to Enzo, who grins as he takes them from him and slips them on without letting go of the wheel. A new song starts up. Queen, he recognizes. His stomach lurches and he reaches out to change it--something about people singing about wanting to break free doesn't quite feel appropriate right at this moment. But Enzo swats his hand away like he's crazy.

"Never change a Queen song. Not even the doctors in Augustine did." He then turns back to the road, and as Freddy Mercury's voice comes belting out, he sings along.

Damon stares at him for a moment in surprise. Then his mouth curves up and he leans back in his seat, letting the song play. Something about the sight of Enzo like this is hard for him to tear his eyes away from. 

Leather jacket, sunglasses, singing while driving his car and looking happier than Damon has ever seen him. Totally carefree. Without that haunted look in his eyes that Augustine left behind with him as a parting gift. This must have been what he was like before it all. Those few decades of being a vampire where he was free. 

His smile fades a little just as Freddy and Enzo both sing along to the line, _ I don't need you _ . Enzo happens to glance over at him in between, as if he can sense a shift. Right at the pause in the song, he takes a hand off the wheel to hit his arm.

"Come on, lighten up," he says. "It's Queen, for god's sake!"

Damon starts to shake his head, unable to stop himself from laughing, but Enzo's already singing again. He throws in an extra dramatic touch, hand gestures and all. How can Damon possibly resist? 

"I've fallen in love,” Queen sings out, they're both singing now, Damon still laughing in disbelief at himself. It's ridiculous.

And amazing. Every doubt, every worry and uncertainty just slips right out of his mind, left half a mile back as they soar down the empty road, belting out each lyric with more and more passion and exaggeration. He may as well be as carefree as Enzo is right now. The exhilaration drives him, and when his eyes lock with Enzo's, he really doesn't care about anything else. 

They continue on for another few miles like that. When there are songs they don't know, surprisingly, they easily fall into some conversation.

"You can't just tell me that you hooked up with one of the Beatles and then refuse to spill on which one it was," Enzo protests with a laugh, arm lazily resting on the door, hand gesturing outside of the car. "Or at least if he was good!"

"I swore myself to secrecy!" Damon argues. "No way am I telling you."

Enzo looks over at him. "It was Ringo, wasn't it?"

"Okay, how do you even know their names?" Damon asks, turning his head to meet his eyes. "What, did you do a complete google search of every artist you heard on the radio in that dungeon?"

"Oh my god, it  _ was _ Ringo, wasn't it?"

Damon scoffs, his eyes narrowing at him. A beat passes, but Enzo barely glances back at the road, a smug grin on his lips.

"All right, fine, it was Paul," Damon caves. "I hooked up with Paul McCartney one time."

Enzo's already laughing, eyes wide like it's the biggest scandal he's ever heard. In all fairness, it just might be. "Before or after he was married?"

"After. I slept with Linda, too. But" --he quickly cuts off Enzo's gasp of utter delighted shock-- "didn't you once tell me that you dated Gene Kelly and Ella Fitzgerald at a point in your life? That is way more interesting and scandalous, I would say. Especially old Eugene. Did not see that one coming."

"Yeah, but they weren't at the same time," Enzo says, dismissive. "You shagged a Beatle. And his wife."

Damon rolls his eyes, but he's laughing again as he stares back out at the road. "All right. Next topic. Go."

They eventually pass a cafe and Enzo pulls into the parking lot after checking with Damon. It's bright blue and painted like it's trying to have a vintage thing going for it. They find that the theme continues when they walk in and are greeted by old, red leather booths and stools, with a tiled floor and records on the walls. Sharing a look, they decide it could be worse. 

Finding a booth in the back, they order pretty quickly. It’s more like a very late dinner at this point, but neither of them mind. Damon raises an eyebrow at Enzo when he asks for a slice of cherry pie, but he doesn't question it. Apparently it's a good substitute for tearing into people's necks. He's not exactly going to complain about no one ending up dead for dinner.

There's music playing, and Damon realizes that it's a song from the fifties. Enzo seems to recognize it as well with faint amusement, looking around but not finding a source. After seeing as much of this place as he already has, Damon's sure they've probably got a jukebox stashed away somewhere in the back. 

A waitress whose uniform is as bright as the blue painted on the outside comes over with their coffees. She sets them down in front of them and they both thank her, Damon already pulling his towards him. He takes a long drink without caring about the steam he swallows at the same time, or how it feels like the coffee itself sears off a couple of layers of skin from his throat. 

"My substitute," he says when Enzo now raises an eyebrow at him. 

He leans an elbow on the table and drops his chin onto his hand. His eyes track Enzo's movements without really meaning to. Watching him pick up the little sugar packet in the middle of the table, tear it open, and pour it into his own steaming mug of coffee. He stirs it in, then reaches out for another. He repeats the process three more times. 

Damon doesn't comment on it. Oh, how badly he wants to. He has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop his mouth from twitching. As he watches him stir a dollop of cream into the coffee, turning it an even lighter shade than it already was, there's a tug beneath his ribs as if pulling the ground out from underneath him.

It's like a lurch in his stomach. His heart in his throat. A tiny creature beating against his insides with their powerful, relentless wings. It shouldn't be a big deal, he thinks. This is normal. And the feeling isn't exactly new to him. Even with Enzo. The three words floating around in his mind aren't new.

He's already said it aloud to him as well, whispered in the darkness of some hotel room while things still felt complicated but clear and simple in a way. Through the gap in their cells, voice strained and weak and seeking comfort in those three words. In Enzo just being there. Apparently even a humanity flip can't change that he really does love him. 

He smiles, unable to stop himself. Stefan was wrong. He had known it, but part of him had been worried. What if he really was just manipulating Enzo, had even convinced himself when it was all just another lie? But this feeling's impossible to shake, and distinct, and he knows. 

Enzo lifts his eyes to him so suddenly that Damon is sure he's  _ trying _ to catch him out. It works for the most part. For just a moment, he considers saying it. Maybe it would have some effect on him. A reminder. Maybe it would actually mean something to him beyond everything that's happened in the last twenty-four hours or so.

Except the look in Enzo's eyes isn't quite right. Something's missing. They're almost the same, but they're still too blank, reminding him that Enzo feels nothing. No matter what he does or what he says. It's too soon to just push himself over the edge like he's nearly done already. Careful and smart. That's how he has to play it from now on.

Forcing the words back into a little crevice in the depths of his chest, he smirks. He takes one of the empty sugar packets into his fingers and crumples it until it's a little ball. He proceeds to aim and flick it at him without so much as lifting his head. It bounces off of his cheek harmlessly, landing back on the table. 

Enzo just stares at him, eyes dancing with amusement but clearly trying to keep a straight face.

"You're a child," he says flatly, continuing to stir his coffee with a little spoon, though his gaze remains fixed on him.

"I'm lovably annoying," Damon replies, already in the process of crumpling up another empty sugar packet. 

This one hits his forehead. Enzo rolls his eyes, but he picks up the crumpled packet, rolling it slowly between his fingers.

He lightly tosses it back at him. Damon's eyes close as it hits his nose with a bounce. He just sits there as Enzo laughs, sounding rather pleased with himself. Smiling, Damon opens his eyes and aims the one still in his hand in retaliation. 

It hits off his chin, just below his lip. Enzo raises his eyebrows, his laughter only faltering before he's nodding to himself as if accepting the gauntlet thrown at his feet. 

Damon quickly retrieves the packet he just threw before Enzo can, but he still manages to get hold of the other one. They aim them at the same time, both crumpled balls of paper going flying. Damon's just barely misses going right into Enzo's coffee after bouncing off his shoulder, and Enzo's hits off the side of Damon's hand. 

"Hey, watch the coffee!" Enzo tosses the packet Damon threw back at him. It lodges itself into the tiny space between his jacket and his shirt. 

"You put so much sugar in it that it may as well be turned into a coffee-flavoured sweet," Damon retorts, shaking the packet free. He picks it up from his lap, but doesn't throw it again, just rolling it between his fingers. 

Enzo scoffs and eyes Damon's cup pointedly. "Oh, and I suppose you don't take any because you like it as dark and bitter as you?"

"Woah! Rude," Damon says, placing a hand to his heart. He then points an index finger out. "But true."

That really riles up Enzo's amusement. "If these are meant to represent our souls, we should probably switch."

"Aw, are you calling me sweet?" Damon leans his chin back into his hand, fluttering his lashes sarcastically, voice falsely honeyed. "How adorable. I'm flattered, sweetheart, especially coming from someone who is claiming his soul is dark and bitter."

Enzo just rolls his eyes with a soft snort, shaking his head at him as he takes a drink. Damon watches fondly as Enzo grimaces, face screwing up the tiniest bit. He's clearly trying to mask his disgust. And doing a terrible job of it. 

"Okay, I genuinely want to switch now," he says, setting his cup down and pushing it away from him.

Damon chuckles but slides his own over to him, hooking two fingers over the rim of Enzo's exiled one and dragging it to him. When Enzo takes a drink this time, he looks far more satisfied. Damon takes a sip of the thing that looks more like tea at this point. He's surprised when it's not actually half-bad. Better than actual tea, anyway. And despite the cream, still burning hot enough to disguise the itch of hunger in his teeth.

The waitress returns, setting three plates down on their table. Damon leans forward in his seat before she can leave, a few bills already folded between his outstretched fingers. He flashes her a smile as he slips them into her hand.

"Just for you. Don't tell your boss," he says in a theatrically hushed voice, but sincere as he pulls his hand away. 

She looks a little surprised, but she returns his secretive smile and stuffs the notes into the little pocket in her dress with a nod. "Tell him what?" she asks with mock innocence, throwing in a wink before turning and leaving them. 

When Damon turns his eyes back on Enzo, he finds him staring at him with one arched eyebrow. 

"What?" he asks, fighting back a grin. "She's a good waitress. Didn't spill anything. And, you know, they really don't get paid enough."

"Nothing," Enzo says in a voice that says it's something. There's a slight curve at the corner of his mouth; the faintest twitch upwards, quickly hidden by his cup as he lifts it to take another drink. "You're just awfully cheerful today. And flirty. This wouldn't perhaps be another tactic of yours in some inevitably disastrous attempt to get me to turn my humanity back on, would it?"

"Do you seriously still not trust me?" Damon asks, leaning back against the booth. He spreads an arm to motion vaguely around them. "I'm sticking to our agreement. I'm having fun-- _ we _ are having fun. I'm not trying to flip your switch by flirting with a random waitress." He gives a Cheshire cat grin; secretive and sly. "That was just for me. And her."

Enzo hums like he doesn't believe a word coming out of his mouth. "And you were getting all huffy with me for flirting with someone else."

"I was not--" Damon cuts himself off, pressing his lips together as his defensive tone raises Enzo's eyebrow ever so slightly. Smirking, he exhales, and spreads his hands out at either side. "Let's say I've had a change of heart. Besides, it's harmless. Not like either of us plan on ditching the other before we get to Cape wherever."

He puts a little emphasis on the last word, just for fun. And because it makes a muscle in Enzo's jaw tighten ever so slightly and he loves it. 

"I swear, you're going to say it right by the time we get there," Enzo says, shaking his head. Then, "But you make a good point. You did beg me to come with you, after all, so I have no doubt that you're not going to go running off. And I would actually like to get there at some point, so."

"Plus, you enjoy my company," Damon says with a devilish grin. 

"Debatable."

Damon opens his mouth to scoff, but Enzo throws a glance up at him with a familiar smile. It makes him pause, just for a moment, recognizing that glint in his eyes. A little brighter than the dullness of nothing. Dancing with a little more than amusement. The red leather behind him has separated into bars, the blue walls tinged grey and grimy, the sunlight illuminating the whole room dulling down to a thin strip. 

Then he blinks and it all dissolves, returning to the brightly-light, blue and red cafe somewhere in Atlanta. The fact that they're even here right now hits him with a pang in his chest. Both free, on a freaking road trip that he has a feeling Enzo's lied about the length of. Once again, all he can think is that, humanity or not, he's just happy to see Enzo like this. Outside of that cell, happily eating dinner across from him like they're two completely ordinary humans.

Damon just tosses the rolled-up sugar packet he's been playing with in his hand this entire time at him. It hits his eyebrow, landing on the edge of the plate with the slice of pie, and Enzo laughs. The swooping feeling like an eagle spreading its wings within his chest returns. 

When they eventually finish up and have paid on their way out, Damon holds out a hand from the passenger seat. 

"Phone, please," he says.

Enzo sighs, but pulls it from his pocket anyway. "I still can't believe you lost yours. We've barely been out of town twenty-four hours."

Damon shrugs as he takes the phone and pulls up the map. "What can I say?"

"You know, it's rather odd now that I'm thinking about it," Enzo says, turning a little more in his seat. His eyes narrow at him. "We leave town, clearly at your brother's displeasure, and with your initial intent to switch my humanity back on. And then, within a day, you've already somehow lost your phone? The one thing that someone, like your brother, could use to contact you?"

"Okay, why are you saying that it's like a bad thing?" Damon asks, keeping his gaze fixed on the screen. "If my plan was to get you to turn your humanity back on, then I obviously wouldn't want my brother, who had been seconds away from killing you when I made you leave town with me, trying to contact me so that he can talk me out of it."

"So, what you're saying is that he did contact you to try and talk you out of  _ saving  _ me?" 

Damon rolls his eyes, making an exasperated noise, and looks up at him. 

"Why does it matter?" he asks. "If he did and I ditched my phone so that he wouldn't be able to again, doesn't that prove that I'm not going to listen to him? I'm not trying to turn your humanity on, and I'm definitely not trying to rip your heart out. What's the problem here?"

"The problem is that I don't want to have to expect your little brother to show up and ruin our fun because he's worried that I've done something to you because you're not taking his calls," Enzo says pointedly. He falters, his lips parting. 

"And it wouldn't hurt to not have to worry about you letting what he says get into your head and have you change your mind once we actually get to Cape Horn. Stefan could have texted you to make a plan to meet us there for all I know, and that's why you ditched your phone, so that I wouldn't know."

Damon groans, but admittedly can see his point. At least about Stefan. And he supposes that up until yesterday, he hasn't exactly given him too much reason to believe that he isn't going to turn his back on him at the last minute. It is something that he would do to other people. It's just not that fun to hear Enzo pretty much agree exactly with what Stefan thought.

"That's not gonna happen, okay?" Damon says sincerely. "I have been ignoring everything Stefan has wanted from me since... like, 1864. Probably even before that. If I wanted you dead, I would have just let Stefan do it in the parking lot. But we're here instead, and my phone is all the way back in a random motel in Virginia."

He holds Enzo's gaze that's still full of a surprising amount of doubt, shaking his head. 

"I am not going to let my brother hurt you." He's unable to stop his voice from softening noticeably. "Or let anyone for that matter. All right? I'm with you.”

Honestly, he's not expecting it to have any effect on Enzo anyway. It's more for his own benefit, to at least know that he's said it to him once. But there's  _ something _ \--something in Enzo's eyes, that flicker, that brief glimpse of a familiar look. Surprise trying to pierce its way through the forcefield of no emotions. There's a soft edge to them, to the faint smile that's on his lips for just that second. 

"Good," Enzo says, nodding, and even through the unfazed tone there's a slip. Some sliver of some emotion sliding through the crack Damon's managed to make. "I believe you."

"You better," Damon retorts, shaking off the odd feeling that came over him for that moment and turning his eyes back on the phone. "That's the most sincere thing I've ever said. I turned into one of those weird ancient books you wouldn't shut up about in Augustine."

Enzo scoffs at that. "You think you could compete with The Odyssey? Now that might be the f unniest thing you've said all day."

"I could still have Stefan meet us at Cape wherever the hell you're taking us," Damon warns, but the threat's empty and they both know it. 

Proving that, Enzo just pats his shoulder. "Sure. But first, we would need to actually get there, so if you could hurry it up with those directions."

"You know, you're the one who wanted to go to this tiny island in the middle of absolutely nowhere. How do you not know how to get there?"

"Four words: Prisoner for seventy years."

Damon rolls his eyes again. "What, so, you didn't know how to get there before the war?"

"Roads and directions change, if you haven't noticed," Enzo points out, waving a hand outside of the car. 

"Okay, okay, I've got it."

"Thank Christ for that," Enzo says and finally starts up the car.

* * *

  
  
They're on the road for pretty much the rest of the day and half into the night, taking it in turns to drive every so often. By the time it turns to full nightfall, they've hit New Orleans, somewhere just after the bayou. Driving through there was about as fun as Damon expected. 

They decide to stop for a short break. With some fresh blood, they'll be recharged and able to drive through to the next morning. Or at least until they get fed up and want to relax somewhere else that isn't the backseat of a car. 

Damon remembers what New Orleans is like; everyone knows a little something of the truth. Some are scared by it and avoid certain areas, some don't care. Others will seek it out for a bit of a thrill. Or to simply see if everyone's lost their minds and there aren't really creatures roaming the streets at night. Turns out, it's entirely true. Damon and Enzo are just two in a crowd of many vampires having a good time, especially in the French Quarter. 

It's fairly easy to find someone whose eyes flash with intrigue rather than fear at a murmured suggestion in their ear. Whether some creature himself or simply a well-informed human like most of the ones in the city, he's more than happy to donate a little blood, clearly already knowing the benefits in it for himself. 

They end up in an alley, shrouded by the shadows and from the rest of the city. Damon's fangs are deep into his neck, Enzo's in his shoulder. Compulsion isn't even necessary to keep the guy from freaking out, and he thinks that has to be some dumb luck for them to have found two willing people to feed on without even really trying in the duration of this trip so far, but he isn't going to question a good thing. 

It's good, and actually pretty relaxing. Up until the reason he's had this pit of dread in the bottom of his stomach since the moment that they entered New Orleans finally clears their throat. Damon doesn't even have to look. He knows already, somehow, just instinctively. What part of him thought it would be a good idea to come here of all places while trying to avoid anyone who might know him?

"I'm going to be honest with you, Damon," Klaus says, as Damon extracts his fangs from the stranger's neck and turns to look at him. His voice is tight and clearly not in a good mood, but as civilised as can be as expected from an Original hybrid. His expression reads the same. "I've already had a hell of a day, and I'd really rather not have to tear your head off, but I will if I must."

"Who the hell is this?" Enzo asks, eyebrows drawing together.

Damon sighs as Klaus tilts his head with a familiar expression that he really doesn't want to see the aftermath of. 

Displeased, and with a lazy motion of his hand towards Klaus, Damon says, "Enzo, meet Klaus Mikaelson. Original vampire, hybrid, and pain in my ass. Seriously, just one year free from you and your weird family, is that too much to ask?"

Klaus scoffs, hands behind his back. "That's rich, considering you decided to invite yourself into my city." His head tilts the other way now, eyebrows pitching up with a sigh as well as he looks at something behind Damon. "And use my people as dinner."

"I don't mind," the nameless guy says with a grin. Clearly still a little dazed. 

Even so, with a glare from Klaus, he's pushing away from the wall and slipping past the two of them. He holds his hands up as he passes Klaus in mock surrender before disappearing back out onto the street. Damon rolls his eyes, but resigns himself to this fate.

"All right, first impression: not too fond," Enzo says dryly. 

"And I don't really care, mate," Klaus replies without missing a beat. He turns his eyes back on Damon. "I'm gonna cut straight to it since I have a feeling you already know why I'm even bothering with you when I'd rather ignore your existence entirely."

Damon purses his lips because of course he knows.

"Forgot to mention: Klaus is also Stefan's old murder buddy,” he tells Enzo. “Two of them went on a couple of murder sprees."

He catches a glimpse of the look on Enzo's face and can tell he's caught on. 

Perhaps to the wrong thing, though, because he asks, "Hold on, so you're the Klaus I keep hearing about. The one Caroline had a thing for?"

Klaus looks downright delighted at that. "Well, yes, I suppose I am. As a matter of fact, it was a mutual thing. Just a few weeks ago, I believe."

Damon grimaces in disgust but doesn't comment on it. He vaguely remembers hearing something about the two of them hooking up and Tyler being mad about it. He's more worried about which direction Enzo's planning on taking this conversation.

But all Enzo says is, "Interesting."

"But yes, Stefan called," Klaus confirms Damon's suspicions. "I was rather surprised to hear from him, but when he told me there was a chance that you would be heading this way and asked me to intercept you long enough for him to get here, well." He spreads his arms out, his mouth curving up. "How could I possibly refuse?"

"How the hell could he have known that we would take this route?" Damon asks, more to himself. Unbelievable that of all the places, Stefan had to guess exactly right. Should have gone straight through to Louisiana. New Orleans was a risk and he knew it and he took it anyway. 

"I'm sorry, you're here to intercept us?" Enzo says to Klaus, humour slipping into his voice as he steps forward to Damon's side. "By--by doing what exactly? Talking to us? Because I'm already getting a little bored."

Damon can't help but turn to him in surprise. And maybe concern for his safety, his eyes shifting between him and Klaus. Clearly Enzo never listened to a word he told him about the Originals. It's a surprise in itself, but one that can't end well; he has a feeling Klaus might take it personally when people don't know who he is.

Sure enough, one of Klaus' eyebrows raises the slightest bit again with a particularly incensed glint in his eyes that Damon is really hoping stay the colour they are and don't start glowing. 

They're all well aware about werewolf bites, and having their only cure for one be the wolf that gave them the bite wouldn't make the odds of survival all that great. And Damon's really doing his best to keep them both alive.

Then, to his relief, Klaus sighs and drops the intimidation act. 

"I never made any promises," he says. "The sooner you get out of my city, the happier and more at peace I will be, so feel free to leave at any time. But I would make it soon. Stefan sounded quite serious about coming here, and I don't know what you've done this time to piss him off, but his voice was also a little murderous, so."

"And here you said he wasn't going to come after us," Enzo says to Damon, an almost accusatory note to his voice. 

"I didn't think he would," Damon shoots back. Honestly, he'd hoped that Stefan would just let him go. He's done it before, why is he having such a difficult time of it now? He rounds back on Klaus with suspicion. "So, I'm supposed to believe you're just going to let us leave after Stefan asked you to do the exact opposite?"

Klaus shrugs, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. "Believe me or don't. That's your problem. My problem is a brewing war between vampires and werewolves. Something I'm sure that you would really rather not be caught in the middle of, so," he waves a hand back towards the entrance of the alley, "you'd best be on your way before I decide I want a little revenge after all."

As much as Damon's instincts want to argue and put up a fight for the simple reason that it's Klaus telling him to do something, he ignores them. For Enzo's sake. The longer Klaus inadvertently stalls them, the less chance they have of missing Stefan who's more than likely already on his way to them. Why can't he just trust him for once in his life? 

The same reason Enzo's having a hard time doing just that, Damon thinks with a self-accusatory voice in the back of his head.

"What if we don't feel like leaving?" Enzo asks, taking another step forward, chin tilting up, and all Damon can think now is  _ oh no _ . 

Klaus makes a noise like an amused scoff, the beginnings of a very bloody fight, and takes a step as well. Damon quickly yanks Enzo back by his elbow. He’s not afraid of Klaus, but he knows their odds well enough by now. At least without a Bennett witch or a vampire-turned-vampire hunter on their side. 

“Ignore him,” Damon tells Klaus through his teeth. “Having a bit of a humanity switch crisis. You get it. He’d start a fight with a rabbit if it looked at him the wrong way.”

He ignores the glare that earns him from Enzo. Klaus’ face has lit up in understanding.

“Ah. So, I take it Stefan’s worried he’s going to be a bad influence on you?” 

Damon nods. “Pretty much.”

Enzo rolls his eyes and says, “You know, I am right here. And I am a _ fun _ influence, I’ll have you know.” He smirks, giving a raise of his shoulder as his eyes flick over Damon. “I can’t help it if fun equals bad as well.”

There’s still blood clinging to the inside of his lower lip, Damon notices. He ignores it, as well as his comment. Though Klaus makes a noise as if the pieces have finally fallen into place.

“You know what, I think I like you after all,” he says to Enzo, clearly more amused by the situation now. 

“Charming,” Enzo replies dryly, but his smirk grows a little and there’s a glint in his eyes. Then his head tilts, and he says, “but you did just threaten my partner, and you’re stalling us so that his brother can come and rip my heart out, so, excuse me if I’m not as infatuated.”

Damon’s surprise overwhelms the concern he should have right now for Enzo daring to be so casually insulting to an Original, and to Klaus, especially, who would probably go to the same lengths if not more to make Damon suffer. He can’t help a soft noise of amusement, feeling just a spark of pride. 

Unbelievably, Klaus doesn’t seem to take it to heart. He just grins, nodding. 

“A fair opinion,” he concedes. “And reckless, idiotic wit that my dear brother once shared. I would have introduced you to Kol, I’m sure the two of you would have hit things off rather well, but--oh, yes.”

He turns his piercing stare onto Damon once more, snapping him back to his reality. Which, may he just say, sucks. Royally. 

“He’s dead,” Klaus says with very little humour. “Courtesy of Jeremy Gilbert, your precious girlfriend’s little brother. Or,” he furrows his eyebrows, pointing a finger from him to Enzo, “would that be ex-girlfriend? I’m not entirely sure what’s happening here.”

“Join the club,” Damon mutters, then rolls his eyes, holding his hands up. “Look, you hate me. I get it. Two of your brothers are dead because of me--”

“Two?” Enzo asks with a disbelieving laugh. “Well, no wonder he agreed to help Stefan in killing us. You murdered two people he loved. Seems to be a pattern for you, doesn’t it? I would know.” He turns cheerily to Klaus. “He murdered the love of my life. Hence the flip of the switch. Now I feel nothing but freedom.”

“All right, tone it down there, Braveheart.” Damon sighs as Enzo looks mildly confused long enough for him to turn his attention back to Klaus. “As I was saying. I know that you--”

Klaus shakes his head and cuts him off in annoyance now, saying, “Yes, I hate you, yes, I would take great pleasure in ripping your spine from your body and replacing it with a dozen stakes doused in vervain.”

Damon and Enzo share an unnerved look, the thought even catching Enzo and throwing him slightly. But Klaus is making no move to follow through on his fantasies. His very graphic fantasies that make Damon straighten up a little at a strange stab between his shoulder blades.

“But like I said, I’m already trying to prevent a war between two factions that have despised each other since the beginning of our species without letting my home or my family, including my unborn child, by the way, be caught in the inevitable damage,” Klaus continues, voice tight and words coming out quick and sharp now, his string of patience clearly snapped. 

“So, whatever issues you have with your brother, I want no part in them, and frankly, I couldn’t care less. So once again, I am telling you to get the hell out of my city so that I can have one less problem in my already troublesome life.”

“Okay,” Damon says, nodding. “We were only here for a quick stop anyway. We’re leaving, see? No need to rip any hearts out or sell us out to anyone’s brother.” Turning to Enzo, “Come on.”

Enzo still seems reluctant to leave, probably just for the pettiness of putting up a fight. But it’s clear when he sighs that he’s quickly grown tired of this particular one. He needs no other pushing from Damon, walking forward now, Damon following a step behind him. 

As they pass Klaus, he catches Enzo flash him a grin and wink. As if lacking some glimmer of self-preservation, he says, “I get why Caroline nearly went for me now.”

Klaus’ eyes flash, blazing. Damon quickly pushes Enzo forward, hand on his shoulder to steer him right out of the alley and back into the streets of New Orleans before Klaus can say a single word or reach for any internal organs.

“Was there any point in me saving you from Stefan?” Damon asks Enzo as soon as he can, incredulous and, safe to say, a bit infuriated. 

Enzo rolls his eyes, grinning. “Relax, it was a joke. He seemed to enjoy it. Though, rather dramatic that one.”

They wind their way through the crowds of people. Must be some festival on, Damon thinks, though it’s always hard to tell with this place. 

Despite himself, the annoyance fizzles out quite quickly and Damon chuckles. “Yeah, his whole family’s like that. Kind of their thing. Trust me, you don’t want to meet the rest of his siblings. Especially Rebekah. She would eat you alive.”

“Oh.” Enzo’s face lights up at that, and Damon’s rolling his eyes now. “I think I would like to meet her actually, she sounds like my kind of woman.”

“Well--” Damon falters, and realizes that he can’t exactly argue. “Yeah, actually, she probably is. But she used to sleep with Stefan, so."

Enzo groans. “Why does he get everyone? He doesn’t even want me to have his brother, honestly. I’ve been locked up too long to not be allowed  _ some  _ fun.”

They reach the end of the crowd, or at least where they had entered from. Turning down another street in search for the car, Damon grins and properly slings his arm over Enzo’s shoulders. 

“Hey, I promised you fun, and fun you will have,” he says sincerely, a chord of mischief struck in his voice. “And my brother doesn’t speak for who can have me. I think I’ve already made that pretty clear. But I am willing to prove it to you again, just so we’re sure.”

He then pauses, faltering in his steps as well this time. Glancing around, his eyes narrow and his arm drops from Enzo’s shoulders..

“Just… once we find the car, that is. I’m really hoping we just have a very bad sense of direction and that Stefan hasn’t already shown up and stolen it for dramatic flare.”

“Well, if he did, he and I could always recreate our little fight back in Mystic Falls,” Enzo jokes. Although, something in Damon worries that he’s not entirely kidding. 

“There will be no fighting and no bloodshed,” Damon warns him, which is infuriating. 

He hates having to be the responsible one. It’s way more fun when other people are telling him not to pick fights with any random stranger just because he can. Fifty years of doing exactly that is kind of hard to shake off, and yet apparently necessary if he doesn’t want the last twenty-four hours to have been for absolutely nothing. 

Head still turning left and right, trying to find some clue as to where they left the car, he decides it’s probably a couple of streets away. They walked for a while. He didn’t really pay much attention to any of it, but he thinks he catches a few familiar details here and there. 

He starts walking again and Enzo wordlessly does the same, though Damon doesn’t miss the eyeroll he gives. Still, the fact that he’s even listening to him at all is a miracle in itself. No vampire without their humanity has ever been this cooperative and calm as far as he’s aware. The only other person he can imagine not going off on a killing spree is Caroline. 

God forbid he ever have to see the day that something breaks her enough to flip her switch. Hopefully it won’t be for another hundred years if ever. 

They reach the end of the street and when they turn the corner, finally locate the car, parked right where they left it. And thankfully free of Stefan. Getting in and starting it up, they head back down the way they entered from. If they avoid the main routes, there’s a good chance they can just altogether avoid Stefan.

“You know that he knows where we’re going, right?” Enzo eventually says after driving in silence for a little while. “He heard you say Cape Horn. If he knew we’d have to come through New Orleans, then he knows where we’ll be going next. He’s your brother, he’s not going to give up on you.”

Damon shakes his head. “You don’t know Stefan like I do. Once he realizes that we’re not here, he’ll stop. He’ll give up once he finally figures out that I don’t need to be saved and you don’t need to be stopped.” He turns his head to raise an eyebrow at Enzo. “Do you?”

Enzo smirks, but says, “Not by him. But I would never take the fun of trying away from you.”

Ignoring him for the most part, Damon takes away the positive from it. At least he doesn’t plan on posing any threat to Stefan, so that’s not a bad sign. So far, he’s not much of a threat to anyone but Damon’s self-control.

The smirk fades from Enzo’s face. “He was ready to kill me. And if he genuinely believes that I’m manipulating you into staying with me or that you’re in some danger, then he won’t stop. He knows where we’re going.”

Damon sighs. “I know.”

Enzo turns his head to look at him.

“So?” he asks. “Tell me you at least have some plan if you won’t allow me to kill him.”

“I…” Damon gives another shake of his head. “I’ll think of something. Just tell me where we’re going,” he says, motioning to Enzo’s phone on the dashboard. “What’s the fastest way out of this place?”

“The airport,” replies Enzo with a joking tone as he picks up his phone to check the map.

Damon pauses. “Is it close by?”

“Er, well, there’s one about seven miles back towards the bayou or another fifteen miles up ahead of us.” He then looks back over at him with faint amusement. “But I thought you said you could stick out the three days on the road with me?”

“Yeah, well, we won’t get to see if I can if Stefan kills you in the next twenty-four hours,” Damon points out. “We’ll go to the one ahead since we’re already driving this way. It’ll be easier for us to get out of here on a plane. Hopefully there’s a flight ready to take off as soon as we get there.”

“If not, we could always compel ourselves a private one,” Enzo says.

Rolling his eyes, Damon scoffs. “Yeah, right, because why not kill ourselves in a plane crash instead of letting Stefan catch up to us? Brilliant idea.”

“I’ll have you know that I am a damn good pilot,” Enzo says, now pulling up the directions to the airport, apparently at least in agreement with the emergency escape plan. “Air Force wouldn’t have made me captain otherwise.”

Damon does a double-take, his eyebrows furrowing. He tries to recall any snippet of a conversation they might have once had about this particular piece of information that for some reason has caught him off guard. But try as he might, he comes up blank aside from the whole soldier in world war two thing. 

“Captain? When the hell did you work for the Air Force?” he asks. 

“In the thirties,” Enzo answers casually. “Ten years as a pilot from… ‘32, I think. Then became captain, worked to help the government cover up aliens and UFOs until ‘43, when I was discovered by Dr. Whitmore, as you already know.”

“Well, I didn’t know you were a pilot!” Damon protests, trying to wrap his head around it. He shakes his head. “Wait, the government? Aliens? What kind of triple-life have you been living?”

Enzo laughs, but says, “We’re vampires, Damon, it’s what we do. I’m sure you’ve had many aliases and identities over the years as well. I just happened to enjoy flying planes.”

Damon has in fact had many identities since becoming a vampire, one even being a count. So, he supposes that Air Force captain isn’t the most shocking. Enough to throw him for a loop considering he thought there was no way Enzo could possibly have any more secrets after exhausting nearly every topic of conversation while in Augustine, and yet, here they are.

It’s an advantage, though, he realizes. Having someone who knows how to fly a plane would definitely be useful right about now. 

“Okay, follow-up questions about this will definitely require answers later,” he says, holding up an index finger. “But for now, tell me where we’re going.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long chapter, I apologize?? But also I don't because 1) cute Denzo, 2) talk of shagging Beatles, 3) New Orleans and Klaus. What's not to love, am I right?


	5. Chapter 5

Fortunately for them, even though no flights are headed in the direction they need, Enzo’s backup plan works out well. It’s almost too easy to compel themselves a small but very nice private plane. 

But instead of hopping right onboard and taking off, Damon tells Enzo to wait for him. He wasn’t going to do anything about it, but what Enzo said has gotten into his head. Stefan’s not going to stop. He knows where they’re going, and Damon ignoring his annoyingly relentless attempts to contact him isn’t going to make things any better. He can’t risk letting things get all the way to Cape Horn. 

“Okay, fine,” Enzo agrees with a sigh when he says there’s something he has to do first, but then they can leave. “But if Stefan tracks me down and you’re not here, I’m not going to be able to keep that promise.”

“Totally fair,” Damon says, already knowing it won’t get to that. Stefan wants him. He wants to know that Damon’s safe and not in any danger from Enzo, so that's what he’ll give him. Out of heart-ripping range from Enzo.

He leaves him on the abandoned airstrip and gets back in the car. The drive back the way they came and into the French Quarter feels quicker this time around. It might have something to do with the impending sense of doom looming over him like an anvil waiting to fall on his head at any moment.

The crowds are still as lively, the sky even darker. Damon just slips through, barely noticed. He keeps a watchful eye out for Klaus trying to sneak up on him again. Or any other Mikaelson for that matter; Klaus is bad enough, he’s really not sure he wants a confrontation with Elijah right now. The thought alone has a shiver go up his spine.

He stops in the middle of the street, looking around. His eyes land on a bar and he clenches his jaw. Where else? 

Crossing over the street, he walks inside. It’s a lot quieter, the noise of celebration or whatever the hell is going on out there quieting with the closing of the doors. There are a couple of people scattered around here and there. But Damon barely needs to search before his eyes land on a familiar head of annoyingly pretentious hero hair next to Klaus at the bar.

Dropping into the stool next to him, Damon sighs, drawing both their attention. “Coming to the bar where we made peace with each other before I abandoned you in the middle of a war so that you can try and talk me into making a plan on how to kill Enzo?”

Stefan rolls his eyes at him but doesn’t look at all surprised.

“I’m disappointed, Stefan,” Damon says with a theatrically solemn tone. “I mean, I at least expected some rousing speech and maybe a weapon or two, but… guilt trip? Really? You went for emotional connection over something that I don’t even really blame myself for, rather than just threatening me?”

“There’s still time. You did just get here,” Stefan replies dryly with a sarcastic, humourless smile.

Klaus’ eyes dart between them, then he leans back in his seat with a sigh, eyes dancing. “I feel I should leave you to your little brothers spat. I have a city and the mother of my unborn child to attend to, so.”

He leaves it at that, standing. Damon certainly doesn’t protest his departure, and Stefan just sends him a nod and a weak smile, as if to thank him for something or other. Passing along the message, Damon realizes with a jolt of irritation and unbidden anger. 

Stefan knew that Klaus wouldn’t be able to stall them. He just wanted him to make Damon think he was coming after him, actively seeking him out, to get in his head, and bring him straight to him instead, on his own terms. Except it’s not his terms at all. Stefan manipulated him and it  _ worked _ . 

They wait until Klaus has left them before Stefan turns his head back to meet Damon’s hard stare, all joking pretence of why he’s here dropping in a blink.

“I told you to trust me,” he says. “Let me handle this on my own. I. Don’t. Need. You.”

Stefan doesn’t even waver. He just looks  _ worried _ , as if he can see something that Damon can’t about himself. It’s the same infuriating look he’s given him a dozen times before, when he thinks that he’s spiralling down a bad path when, in reality, he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Where’s Enzo?” Stefan asks with curiosity that makes Damon scoff at his transparency. 

“Like I’m going to tell you,” Damon says. “But not tied up somewhere with his neck snapped or vervained like you wanted. Thought it might bring back too many bad memories. You know, of the fifty years he spent being tortured because I left him to die? Remember that?”

“Weird,” Stefan says, slow, as if he’s barely listening to what Damon is very clearly trying to say but in the subtlest, politest way possible. “I would have thought that triggering bad memories would be exactly what you wanted to do. Considering you’re so hell-bent on turning his humanity back on, after all. Would have been the smart decision, don’t you think?”

Damon shakes his head, and replies, “No, not really. See, I figured, since it didn’t work on you, and it  _ really _ didn’t work on Elena, torture maybe shouldn’t be the go-to, you know? More of a plan Z kind of thing, _ I think _ .”

Stefan sighs again, and Damon can hear the frustration behind it now. “No, you just don’t want to admit that you don’t have a plan. And that even you know that running around with a humanityless psycho--”

“Careful,” Damon cuts through, voice sharp and dangerous. He quickly pulls himself back, plastering on his typical smirk that lacks any depth. “You have to be more aware of the things you’re saying, little brother. The times change, and you wouldn’t want to get left behind, using outdated terms to villainize people.”

There’s no sign that Stefan’s even listening to a word coming out of his mouth. Confusion gleams in his eyes. He leans forward, arm on the bar, like they’re conspiring together and have to huddle to keep their voices hushed.

“Why do you care so much?” he asks with a slight shake of his head, looking utterly lost and bewildered. “I’ve never seen you… so protective, so determined, doing all of this for one person. For someone other than Elena--someone who  _ hurt Elena _ , and was going to kill her.”

Damon rolls his eyes and groans, “Oh my god, enough already. I get it. You’re trying to use Elena to manipulate me, make me see that I’m only spiralling because we’re not together, or that I’ll never win her back like this. Newsflash, Stefan: I don’t care and, frankly, I’m surprised that you still think this tactic is going to work after seeing it fail already.”

“You can’t have just stopped caring,” Stefan says, then pauses, eyes narrowing with a look of suspicion, giving him a wary once-over. “Unless…”

“I didn’t turn my humanity off, relax.” 

Stefan does visibly relax somewhat. Damon feels it best not to mention the fact that it’s not for lack of trying on Enzo’s part. Something tells him that it wouldn’t make the situation any better. 

“I don’t care because I don’t want Elena back,” he tells Stefan, pointed, emphasizing as much as is physically possible in the hopes that he will finally hear him. “I want Enzo back.”

He gives it a moment, holding Stefan’s confused stare, waiting for him to finally get it. Stefan’s expression shifts a little and makes Damon clench his teeth in annoyance and, admittedly, disappointment. He looks away from him, nodding. What else did he expect?

There’s a sigh from beside him. A still frustrated and weary sigh, but there’s a layer of resignation to it that has Damon glancing back at him. 

The look on his face isn’t happy. He didn’t expect it to be; he can’t say he was all that thrilled about Stefan going off with Klaus, and even less so when they made back up to whatever their weird friend status is at the moment or used to be.

But it’s not stubborn refusal to believe what he’s saying, either. His lips do press into a line, taking another moment before responding. He’s pretty sure he’s having to try real hard at thinking of how to sound at least a little gentler than he’s been so far.

“I…” Stefan shakes his head, looking down at the bar that’s really not interesting enough to be getting this much attention paid to it, “I didn’t realize that you were this serious about him.”

“Yeah, you made that pretty damn clear over the phone,” Damon says, and looking back a day later, he’s now regretting destroying it when numbers are easily blocked.

“Can you blame me?” Stefan asks, lifting his eyes back to him. Damon scoffs, about to say that he absolutely can and does, but Stefan holds a hand up and stops him. “Okay. I… may have been hasty on the whole… use his feelings for you, snap his neck, let’s kill him idea.”

“Yeah, what the hell was that exactly? I’m the one with the murder plans! You’re meant to talk me out of killing people, not into it.”

“I know, and that’s what worried me,” Stefan says, making Damon’s eyebrows pitch up in disbelief. “This is the first time I have ever heard you say, ‘I can fix this, I can save him’, instead of jumping straight to ‘I’m going to kill him’, especially after they’ve threatened Elena’s life.”

The fight and the anger slowly fizzle out of Damon.

“I know,” he says quietly. “Because he’s  _ different _ , Stefan.”

Stefan nods, the message clearly now sunk in. “I get that. I didn’t before, but… I do now. You clearly care a lot about him.” He gives a soft laugh of disbelief, a realization finally seeming to strike him. “More than I think I’ve ever seen you care about anyone.”

He’s right, and Damon knows. He’s known since Enzo showed back up in town, alive and not-so-well, and a whole flood of memories and feelings came rushing back, breaking through his sturdy defences like it was a paper dam. Not a thing had changed. Still hasn’t.

But hearing it come from Stefan’s mouth makes him shift uncomfortably, feeling far too exposed, too vulnerable. Years of hiding weakness from Stefan is still ingrained in him, even from when they were humans and he had to be the stable big brother. 

“Well…” Damon can only shrug, at a loss for the right words himself. He pushes the feeling down instead, half-wishing he had a drink to busy himself with. “Does this mean that you’re not here to hunt Enzo down and rip his heart out?”

It almost feels too optimistic. Stefan’s only actively sought to ruin his life on a few occasions, but Damon is well aware that the scales aren’t quite balanced on that front, and this could be his perfect opportunity to even them out with a little retribution in the form of killing someone he cares about. 

But Stefan says, “Hey, I was just trying to get him away from Elena. Maybe threatening to kill him was too much, but he has his switch flipped, there was no other way to make him stop. And he was going on about how it would be the perfect revenge to have you find out I had killed him.”

That certainly sounds like Enzo, all right. And that’s exactly what he had been saying, even in front of Damon himself.  _ You idiot, Enzo _ , he thinks to himself.

“That wasn’t a yes or a no,” Damon points out with a sliver of apprehension.

“No, I’m not going to hurt him,” Stefan says, though still doesn’t look too pleased with having to make that agreement. “But, Damon,” he shifts in his seat again, holding his eyes, “tell me you do actually know what you’re doing. Or that you’re at least sure that you’re going to be enough to get through to Enzo without putting yourself or your humanity at risk.”

Damon smiles now, softening slightly. Stefan’s looking at him with barely concealed worry, the same look he used to get when Damon and their father would argue and Stefan would try to play peacemaker, and when Damon would talk about going back to war, and especially when he talked about  _ not _ going back to war. There was a constant need for that look when they were human, and all Damon can see is his little brother, fearing for him because he cares. 

Sobering, he nods, confident as he says, “I know what I’m doing, and I promise that there is a ninety percent chance of me returning with my humanity still in-tact and Enzo’s refound.”

Stefan gives him a very different but just as familiar look, unamused.

“Well, you are kinda throwing a wrench in my plans by dragging me away from him,” Damon points out. He then rolls his eyes with a drawn-out sigh. “But I mean it. We won’t come anywhere near Mystic Falls until I can flip his switch back on, even if it takes longer than anticipated.”

“Even if it takes years, like you did?”

There’s a little prodding meaning lying beneath Stefan’s words and behind his slightly widened eyes. Just one more bit of confirmation, so Stefan can be sure that Damon’s sure. That’s all Damon needs, for him to trust him. 

“Yeah,” Damon says easily, nodding one more time. “He just… he just needs me to prove that I’m not going to abandon him again. It’s like a test. Or at least, it’s what it feels like. To see if I’ll just give up on him.”

“But you’re not going to,” Stefan says, and Damon looks at him in surprise. 

He isn’t asking anymore. There was a firmness to his voice. Telling him. 

Settling a hand on his shoulder, Stefan sets his jaw and breathes out another sigh, but holds Damon’s confused gaze. 

“If anyone can bring Enzo back, I have a feeling it’ll be you. Do what you have to, go wherever you need to with him. You’ll find a way to fix this, I’m sure of it.”

Damon can’t help but stare at him as if he’s grown three heads. Part of him also can’t help but subconsciously search for a flicker of red in his eyes to let him know that he’s clearly possessed again, or wait for him to snap his neck and kidnap him to stop him going through with this as was obviously his plan all along. 

All he finds is sincerity, completely and totally earnest. He really believes that he can do this, can put on the hero hair and help someone on his own. And he’s not going to stand in his way of doing it. 

“Why do you suddenly think that Enzo can be helped?” Damon asks, unable to stop himself, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. The change of heart doesn’t feel  _ right _ .

Stefan draws back, and Damon thinks,  _ here it is, here comes the truth _ . 

“Because you think he can,” Stefan simply says. He shakes his head. “And, because Lexi always believed that she could find a way to bring me back, no matter what. And she always did. It took time, but she found a way through to me, and I was probably a lot worse without humanity than Enzo is, so… yeah, if you love Enzo as much as Lexi loved me, then I believe you can find a way, no matter what.”

The words take a minute to process. Hearing  _ Enzo _ and  _ love _ \--hell, hearing Lexi and love in the same sentence, coming from Stefan is enough to throw him. And throw in a touch of guilt that Stefan may or may not have been intending for, but it lands either way. And it’s how he knows that Stefan has no hidden agenda or secret intentions. 

Refusing to fully confirm it for him with the words, Damon just nods. “All right then. So, you’re going to go back home now, right? You’re not going to follow us or anything?”

Stefan chuckles lightly, but he shakes his head again, and says, “No, I’m not going to follow you. I just had to come here, to be sure. But now that I am, I need to go before Klaus tears my head off.”

“Yeah, I heard he’s trying to stop a war?” Damon jokes. 

Laughing again, Stefan just holds his hands up to say, _ I don’t know and I don’t want to _ . He then sighs one last time and stands up. He pats Damon’s shoulder, leaving his hand there for a moment, fingers tightening slightly.

“I’ll see you, then,” he says. 

Damon notices the lack of an actual agreement on when that’ll be. 

“See you, brother,” Damon says with a small smile. Before Stefan can leave, something else comes to Damon and he quickly starts, “Oh, and don’t--”

“I won’t,” Stefan cuts him off, already knowing what he’s going to say. He returns his smile, applying a little more pressure to his shoulder, then lets go completely. “Have fun in Cape...”

“Horn,” Damon supplies, and the irony of it fills him with a strange warmth that almost makes him want to laugh. “Cape Horn.”

Stefan nods. “Right. Well.”

And that’s it. Damon just nods back, then Stefan turns and leaves, walking right out of the bar. Klaus is nowhere to be found either, Damon notices at a quick sweep of the room. Getting up, he follows after Stefan and gets back into his car. 

Another fifteen miles down a road he’s already taken three times now and he’s back at the airport. His only thought, or at least the main one as he’s making his way around the back to the abandoned airstrip he left Enzo on, is that he hopes he didn’t get suspicious and just take off already.

But to his surprise, next to the private plane they compelled, there’s still a shadowy silhouette that he’d recognize even if it was curled up in the corner of a dungeon. Enzo senses him coming and turns as he approaches. 

“Was beginning to think you weren’t coming back,” he says, but his voice gives the joke away.

“And just leave you?” Damon grins. “Never.”

Enzo looks as if he wants to roll his eyes, but he refrains. Some spark of  _ something _ stops him. Makes him return the grin instead, just a little softer, a little pleased. 

“Did you get it all sorted?” he asks, back to himself in the blink of an eye. Or at least this new version of him. “I presume that since you’re here alone, things went well with Stefan? Is he dead?”

Narrowing his eyes, Damon wants to ask how he figured out he was going to talk to Stefan. But he supposes it was fairly easy to suss, so he lets the question die on the back of his tongue.

“No, he’s not dead,” he says, a touch exasperated, thinking it should have been obvious. “But he is leaving us alone. Nothing to worry about now, okay? So, let’s go.”

“That’s a tad suspicious,” Enzo says, his eyes narrowing as well now. “Just like that?”

“What can I say?” Damon spreads his arms, half-gesturing to the plane. “I’m good at convincing people to do things they don’t want to do. You’re here, which you clearly didn’t want to be, and you haven’t tried to convince me that I’d be better without humanity since the hotel.”

Enzo shrugs. “Turns out, you’re still fun with it. Surprising. But it makes it easy to forget that you still care about some things.” 

He turns back around, taking a step towards the plane, then looks back at him. His eyes have that gleam to them again. Brighter, a little less blank and unwavering. 

There’s just enough of a shift in his expression that Damon’s heart actually jumps in hope. When Enzo speaks, his voice is soft. Quiet, more like him than he’s sounded in the last day as he asks, “And who said I didn’t want to be here?” 

With that, he opens up the pilot side door and climbs inside the plane. Damon scoffs, to himself, of course, but it’s also a laugh. It’s barely been just over a day, and yet he can feel it. He’s not even trying to convince Enzo anymore, but he knows that whatever he’s doing is working either way. Clearly Enzo can feel it, too. 

Following, Damon hops up into the passenger’s--or co-pilot's?--seat. He casts a glance at Enzo out of the corner of his eye, watching him set the whole thing up with the ease and skill that could only come from someone who’s done it a million times before. 

Impressive, he thinks, and only smiles as the plane begins to hum, starting up. Then they’re taking off. 

“Cape Horn it is,” Damon says softly, barely audible, and he sees Enzo’s smile from the corner of his eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they are off! Finally, Stefan will leave them alone! And they get to go to Cape "wherever" Horn, as they deserve!


	6. Chapter 6

Nine hours it takes to get to Cape Horn. Nine. The sun has already risen halfway through the flight. Damon literally watches it come up over the horizon, reflecting down on the glittering waves like millions and thousands of tiny shards of red-and-orange-tinted glass. If he was sentimental and an idiot, he would almost think it was actually kind of nice to look at.

But since he’s neither of those things, he simply watches it with detachment while Enzo flies them over the sea. To his credit, they don’t even wobble a little once the entire time. He somehow keeps them completely steady without even the slightest dip. 

And maybe it could have been a lot worse. He’ll admit that. 

When Enzo’s eyes light up like he’s seen the heavens above parting for them, Damon figures they’ve finally found their destination. A small island, barely the size of two villages combined, surrounded by jagged rocks that look like something straight out of the Odyssey. 

They’re still at a fair distance, but close enough for Damon to know that the entire thing is just grass and rocks. There’s a lighthouse peeking up out of the far end, but aside from that, he sees nothing else. Not even a speck to indicate a house or a building of some sort. 

“There?” Damon questions, incredulous, turning his head to look at Enzo. “This is the place you’ve been desperate to see? The one you spent seventy years thinking about how much you’d like to go? This is that lovely little island you wouldn’t shut up about?”

“It is,” Enzo confirms, apparently ignoring his tone. He looks far too thrilled to care. “Beautiful.”

Damon glances from Enzo to the island that they’re now approaching, starting to lower. 

“Are we looking at the same thing?” he can’t help but ask. “It has a  _ lighthouse _ .”

“If you don’t quit complaining, I’m leaving you here,” Enzo threatens, pulling the plane down slowly to land. It’s not as if there’s no room; the whole island seems to be one big landing strip with nothing but empty space for the few miles it stretches. 

Damon scoffs, but he looks away, staying quiet. Coming all this way would be pretty pointless if he just stayed in the plane the entire time, and he did not do all of this for nothing. He did it for Enzo. 

Satisfied with Damon’s lack of response, Enzo properly lands the plane, putting it into whatever the flying version of park is. Then, without saying another word, unclips his belt and climbs straight out. Leaving Damon no choice but to do the same. 

A feeling of unease crawls over him the second his feet are firmly planted on the ground. He glances back over his shoulder to find the steep drop of the cliffs. If he had to guess, it’s about thirty, maybe forty-feet of those jagged, jutting out rocks that go all the way beneath the sea that’s just one slip of his foot away from being his semi-permanent death.

Clenching his jaw to soothe the feeling, he turns away and seeks out Enzo instead. Anything that doesn’t make him feel like he’s a sailor who’s just been lured to his death by the pretty voice of a dangerous creature. 

_ Oh, fuck _ , he thinks.

Well, at least he still has the plane in case of an emergency escape. Not that he actually knows how to fly it, but he’s sure in a state of panic, he could figure it out one way or another. None that involve him plummeting straight into the sea. He hopes. 

Reminding himself that he trusts Enzo, for some unknown, absolutely insane reason, he brushes it off. He finds him standing a little away, staring out at the rest of the island. It doesn’t look like much to Damon, but there’s something about the almost wistful glint in Enzo’s eyes, illuminated by the sun. 

The eagle returns to his chest and he ignores it like every other emotion he’s had within the last day or so. He walks until he’s by Enzo’s side, throwing a glance over in the general direction he’s staring, then focusing back on his face. 

“So…” he says slowly. “Is the plan to stand here for a couple of hours, see if any ships pass close enough that we can sing a cheerful little song and lure them to their very gruesome and probably terribly painful deaths?”

“Have you ever even actually read The Odyssey?” Enzo asks, turning his head to him. 

Damon snorts, highly amused. “Of course not. You think I have the attention span to read some two-thousand-year-old Greek book about death and sailing and some idiot named Odysseus?”

“It’s worth it,” Enzo says, his eyes drifting back out to the rest of the island. Fixing on the lighthouse, Damon thinks. “It’s beautifully tragic.”

Raising an eyebrow, Damon says, “Well, you can read it some time and I’ll listen, how about that?” then slides past him, walking without any real direction. It’s not like there’s anywhere to actually go. 

He hears Enzo make a noise of thought from behind him. “Perhaps I will. What’s the point in being immortal if you’re not going to appreciate all that comes with it?”

Damon rolls his eyes but doesn’t comment on that; he already knows it’s pointless when Enzo will find some way to win.

“Where are you going?” Enzo calls out to him. 

“Absolutely no idea, but I’m either going to walk straight into the sea and swim my way back to an actual town, or I’m going to discover some secret cannibal lair that no one but their victims knew about.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And that’s why I’m your main source of amusement at the moment, so hurry up or I’m gonna be the one leaving you stranded on this death island of nothing. Maybe you and the sirens can team up to lure in food for the cannibals.”

He doesn’t have to look at Enzo to know what expression he has on his face. Catching up with him in a few quick strides, Enzo falls into step beside him, and they slowly make their way along the outskirts of the island.

* * *

When walking at a normal, human pace, the island feels a little bigger, Damon notices. Takes a little longer to get around the whole thing. He does admittedly get bored pretty quickly, but he’s always found that it’s fairly easy to quench boredom when Enzo’s around. He talks nonstop and refuses to shut up without an answer from him or else he’ll just barrel straight onto another subject that lasts even longer. It’s nice. 

But there’s really only so long you can walk around an otherwise deserted island with nowhere to go and nothing to do. Damon ends up refusing to walk another step unless it’s in the direction of the lighthouse, aka the only other thing on this tiny island that Enzo insists they can’t leave yet for some godforsaken reason. Something about the night and the lights and something.

They spend hours in the lighthouse. Right up at the very top, where they can see out across the sea for miles. Damon stares up at the overhang of the roof.

“What’s the plan for after this?” he asks. “I mean, assuming that the plan isn’t to spend eternity here, build a village, and compel people to live in it, of course.”

“Haven’t decided yet,” Enzo says from where he’s still standing. Or more leaning on the railing. He glances back at him, smirking. “And should I take that to mean you’re coming with me? After all, you only agreed to Cape Horn when you said we would leave town.”

“Do I look like I have anything better to do?” Damon asks, rhetorical because of course he doesn’t. He’s laying on the uncomfortable balcony of a lighthouse waiting to see some celestial event or something on an island in the middle of nowhere. 

Enzo shrugs. “Then you decide.” He actually looks curious now. “Where’s the one place you’ve always wanted to go?”

“Unlike you, I’ve been everywhere already,” Damon replies. 

His answer almost seems to disappoint Enzo. Or bore him, maybe. That’s probably it, because he shouldn’t be having flashes of feelings unless his humanity’s trying to pry its way back through. 

Watching him sigh quietly and look back out towards the sea, Damon grits his teeth. It shouldn’t be this easy. And yet, it still is, no matter what way he looks at it. He wasn’t lying when he told Stefan that five years in captivity with someone forges a pretty unbreakable bond. 

He focuses back on the overhang of the roof. It’s painted red, but the job was clearly done a while ago, long enough for it to have chipped and flaked away due to neglect. Like the paint on an old balcony that’s been through many storms and many days of endless sun and been slowly rubbed away by hands using it for support. Hit by the salt in the lake below, carried through the air on a gentle breeze.

“Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port,” Damon says softly. His pronunciation could be better, but it’s not bad for the year he spent in France. 

Enzo looks back down at him, eyebrows drawing together in confusion. 

“It’s this place in France, close to the border of Spain,” he explains. A small smile finds its way onto his face, totally unaware of it. “I’ve only ever seen it in one picture. It would always sit there on the fireplace. My mother was just a young girl when it was taken, no older than three or four, I think. It’s where she was born, but she left when she was five. Always talked about how nice it was from what she could remember, though. The whole scene just sounded beautiful.”

“How come you’ve never been then?” Enzo asks.

Damon shakes his head, breathing out slowly. Then says, “Could never bring myself to go. Even when my humanity was off, it was like I just blocked it out of my mind and forgot about it. But that’s the one place I haven’t been.”

“Okay.” Enzo shrugs, turning away again. “Then we’ll go there next. Haven’t been to France in a while.  _ Obviously _ .”

Damon just stares at him. It’s not surprising, he thinks to himself, and it doesn’t mean anything. Enzo asked where he wanted to go, Damon answered, and so that’s where they’ll go. It makes perfect sense. 

That doesn’t stop Damon from overthinking. Yes, he’s flippant about almost everything. But it’s the  _ almost _ that’s getting to him. If his switch was all the way off, if he really cared about nothing in the world, he wouldn’t act the way he does. Something is still keeping him in a middle state, somehow grounded right in the centre of flipping off the whole word and being human again. 

After all, the only reason that he himself went completely off the rails was because he had no one. The one who made him turn it off was presumed dead, and Stefan sent  _ Lexi _ . He rarely saw Stefan without humanity, but when he met Lexi, she seemed to pull him back in. Almost to this same state, the one that Elena got into around Matt. 

They all needed something to ground them, Damon realizes. And eventually, make them switch it back on. It just so happens that it was easy with Elena, she was new, still tied to her humanity, but Stefan took months to years until it became more obvious how to pull him back. But when they did, it was because they had convinced him that he wasn’t beyond redemption. 

“And then?” Damon asks. He pushes himself up to his feet, moving over to stand next to him.

Enzo hums in thoughts. “Maybe Italy. I do miss Florence.”

Damon nods, agreeing. “It’s even better now. Museums, very artistic and interesting statues. Plus,” he leans into the railing, smirking at him, “there’s this really nice, romantic spot. Piazzale Michelangelo. Think you’d like it.”

“Are you asking me on a _ date _ ?” Enzo asks, eyes narrowing with mock suspicion, the corners of his mouth curving up. 

Scoffing, Damon says, “No.”

He chances a glance at him and finds Enzo staring at him, clearly not buying it. Damon rolls his eyes, grinning.

“Sue me for trying to be romantic,” he says, spreading his hands over the railing. 

“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing.” Enzo’s smiling, a secretive, wicked smile. "You know I love a gentleman."

"Oh." Damon raises his eyebrows, straightening up slightly to turn properly to face him. "So, basically you're confessing your undying love for me right now? Because, as we know, I am a total gentleman." 

Enzo snorts, looking away from him. Avoiding, Damon realizes, catching a glimpse of the flicker in his eyes from the reflection of the moonlight. That little spark he's been seeing, brighter, growing ever so slightly. A muscle even twitches in his jaw the same way it would for a vampire trying to resist blood when starving.

Intrigue caught, Damon decides to go for it. He moves forward, a slow step. His head tilts, eyes staying fixed on him.

"No response to that?" he asks with false innocence. 

“You want me to lie and say you’re a gentleman?” Enzo shoots back, barely glancing at him. 

Damon shakes his head. “No.”

He can’t move any closer. He can, however, brush his hand up along his back, fingers sliding slowly across the leather of his jacket. Enzo’s eyes dart away from the sea, but still not to him, as if trying to see his hand on his shoulder without accidentally looking at him. 

“I don’t want you to say anything at all.” 

Enzo moves as if without thinking, turning to him as Damon’s hand curls around the base of his neck. He pulls him in but Enzo really doesn’t need any coaxing; he’s already leaning in, his eyes on Damon’s lips until they press softly against his own.

As soon as he kisses him, Damon knows something’s different. He’s tentative, hesitating. Kissing him back slowly, his heart beating quickly in his chest. Even just the  _ feeling _ . Far more familiar than it has been in the last two days. 

He pulls back. His eyes open first, he notices. Enzo’s stay closed, his lips still parted ever so slightly before he lets out a quiet breath and presses them together, his teeth digging into his bottom lip.

Damon gently brushes his fingers over the back of his neck, nails scratching gently across his skin. They slide up into his hair and Enzo’s head tips back a little. He leans into it, taking another slow breath, eyes shifting beneath his lids but still not opening.

The eagle is back again, but more insistent this time. It spreads its wings as far as they’ll go, brushing against every nerve, feathers slipping between his ribs and encompassing his heart, then everything inside of him.

The words return to the tip of his tongue as well, carried up by it. What is there to lose at this point, really? Enzo’s faltering beneath his hand, beneath his lips, and something’s just screaming at him.

His voice is soft, and quiet, full of absolute sincerity. All of the years he spent without him, the flood of guilt and anguish when his humanity flipped itself back on. 

“I love you,” he says.

Enzo opens his eyes. For a moment that feels stretched out and like eternity, his expression is just as blank as it has been the last two days. Devoid of caring. His eyes dark and blank, just looking and not really hearing.

Damon presses his lips together, biting the inside of his cheek, then draws in a breath as his other hand moves to Enzo’s chest. He can feel his heartbeat through his shirt, his fingers curling into the material.

“I’ve loved you for sixty-one years,” he says, holding his gaze. “I didn’t feel it with my humanity off, but I still did. It’s why leaving you was unbearable. And why I could never do it again. I love you, Enzo. More than I’ve loved anyone in my life, which, as you know, has been pretty damn long. And I will never do anything to hurt you again. I will never leave you again.”

Damon’s skin crawls with being so honest, used to acting like feelings are beneath him. They’re for humans and good people, people who can fall in love and  _ should  _ fall in love. But it was like there was a ticking clock inside of him and it was attached to an explosive just waiting to be set off if he didn’t try everything to make this right.

He never drops Enzo’s eyes. Watches his words sink in, slip through that sliver of a crack in his shields. Enzo’s lips part as if to speak, but he doesn’t, and the flicker in his eyes has gone from an old lightbulb to a fire in a hurricane. 

And then in a blink that Damon refuses to take, the fire dies out and brightens at the same time. Enzo’s eyes widen, the darkness slipping away. That blank look crumbles. The dam breaks and there’s a flood that Damon is all too familiar with, every emotion caught in the currents flashing across Enzo’s face in an instant. 

“Enzo?” Damon asks softly. His heart’s admittedly beating a little faster in anticipation.

Enzo doesn’t say anything. His hand lifts, surprising Damon when the tips of his fingers brush over his neck. Like he’s tracing some invisible pattern. Or invisible wound, he realizes at the brief glimpse of guilt, probably remembering a broken bottle and Damon’s hiss of pain as he shoved it into his neck.

Then the realization sets in and joy swoops through him. Guilt over hurting him is a real emotion, not just a flicker. Just like the anger and the hurt that replaces it a moment later when he lifts his eyes back to him and Damon knows he’s remembering Maggie. What Damon did.

But it fades out just as quickly as he just gazes back at him. Damon can see the moonlight still reflecting in his eyes. Ironically so much brighter now without the freedom of just not caring about anything.

“Is your silence a sign that you’re now regretting agreeing to come here with me and the last two days in general?” Damon asks, a light chuckle to his voice. “Or are you now spiraling and I should be worried about a total breakdown?”

Enzo’s still just silent for a moment, a disconnected look in his eyes, but different from the one of feeling nothing. It's one of feeling too much. Then he says, “I’m not spiraling. Just… adjusting."

"Okay." Damon nods slowly, sliding his hands up his arm and gently taking Enzo's hand. His fingers curl around it. "That's okay. Take as much time as you need. I’ll be right here.”

The repeated promise seems to shift something in Enzo. His expression is almost unreadable, but Damon can see the relief sticking through. Doubt, too, but Damon knows that’s to be expected; two days isn’t enough. But he’ll prove it. To Enzo, and to himself. 

Enzo swallows, then nods. He quickly clears his throat as if to speak, or turn his head to look away, but Damon just pulls him in and hugs him. It’s a surprise to both of them, if he’s honest, and he’d be startled at himself. 

But before he can collect himself back to his senses, Enzo relaxes into it. Sort of collapses into it, really. Damon hears him breathe out deeply as he leans his head forward to let his forehead press into his shoulder. 

Damon just tightens his hold and lets the moment last as long as Enzo needs it to. Even so, he can’t help but quietly say, “I’m sorry, Enzo.”

A beat passes in silence, but Damon doesn’t mind. 

“I know,” Enzo finally says, and there’s no underlying anger in his voice. It’s tight and pained, but he doesn’t let go of him, and he shows no sign of hating him. 

They let it drop there. For now, at least. Damon knows it’s not the end of the conversation. It can’t be. Something inside of him, like an actual conscience, won’t allow it. Right now, though, he’s just focused on this.

Eventually, Enzo draws back. Damon’s hands slide down the length of his arms again, catching his hands lightly in his own instead before he lets go. He watches him as he clears his throat then quickly looks away. 

His eyes widen and Damon sees the reflection in them before the actual thing. There’s no longer the faint sheen of silver, replaced instead with tints of colour. 

Confused, Damon follows Enzo’s line of sight, and he finally realizes what he was going on about when he was trying to explain the lights he wanted to see. It’s like the world has been turned upside down and the sea is now the sky. Magnificent waves of bright pink, purple, and green are shimmering across it, like they’re performing some slow dance, casting out shadows of all the colours. It almost doesn’t look real.

“The southern lights,” he mutters in realization and a little bit of awe. “Of course. They’re…”

“Indescribable,” Enzo says, shaking his head. He huffs out a gentle laugh, and Damon finds him smiling, eyes still wide in wonder. It hits Damon that it’s more than likely the first time he’s ever seen anything like this. 

He watches him step back up to the railing, watching the universe’s own form of magic before his eyes. With real appreciation, a real ability to love and care. Damon smiles. He steps up beside him, leaning his arms on the railing. When Enzo glances at him, their gazes locking, Damon finally feels the eagle soar off into the horizon to meet the lights. 

“For the record… I love you,” Enzo says softly, with a touch of playfulness. He takes Damon’s hand once more, fingers sliding between’s Damons as if without thinking. “But you didn’t have to go all ‘’I’ve loved you forever’’ sappy romantic on me.”

Damon scoffs. “I absolutely did have to, you would have accepted nothing else.”

Enzo hums as if going to disagree, his smile widening. Then he clicks his tongue and says, “No, you’re right. It was necessary.”

“So, out of curiosity,” Damon directs his eyes back to the lights in the sky as Enzo does the same, watching them dance, bouncing off of the sea, “are we still doing France or…?”

“I think we should,” Enzo says after a moment’s consideration. “I may have my common sense back now, but I think I could still use some time. And I’m pretty sure you could, too.”

Damon doesn’t disagree. He just nods, smiling at him, and so it’s settled. Time away from Mystic Falls sounds like a dream, a vacation that he is certainly in dire need of for more than two days. This is what he needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we go! They went to Cape Horn! Enzo's humanity is back! Did it happen faster than necessary? Yes, probably, but at least I didn't kill him! And so it's off to France for them. Honestly, it's best they keep out of all the drama happening in Mystic Falls... But I hope you guys enjoyed reading!! Please, tell me what you thought! <3

**Author's Note:**

> I have been writing this for way too long, because I could just never get over Enzo's first death. Should never have happened!! So, I'm refusing to let it through this fic and letting Damon and Enzo take the trip they deserve.


End file.
